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THE 

WIDENING CIRCLE 

A CHRONICLE 

BY 

THE MARCHIONESS TOWNSHEND 

Who looks upon a river in a meditative hour, 
and is not reminded of the flux of all things? 
Throw a stone in the stream and the circles that 
propagate are the beautiful types of all Influence. 

Emerson 



D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK MCMXX 




COPYRIGHT, 1920 , BY 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



JOL 29 lij2Q 


PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OP AMERICA 


©CLA570872 


V 


o 

CONTENTS 

CHAPTEE PAGE 

I. Childhood 1 

II. Being Rich 14 

III. Life in Another Country 29 

IV. London Again 49 

y. All Sorts op Friends 67 

VI. Prosperity 85 

VII. Ideals and Facts 118 

VIII. Margaret^s Wedding 150 

IX. Some Monotonous Days 173 

X. The Meeting of Two 201 

XI. The Accident 230 

XII. “ And They All Lived Happily Ever After ” . 272 





















CHAPTER I 


CHILDHOOD 

The first home that I remember was a long, low 
white house, with a sloping lawn in front leading 
down to a stream — beyond the stream a meadow 
with twelve tall poplar trees, like soldiers stiff and 
standing to attention, at the far end. At sunset, 
silhouetted against the sky, they looked as if they 
were cut out of black velvet. At the back of the 
house there was an old-fashioned kitchen garden, a 
rick yard, and a duck pond. Between the rick yard 
and the garden, a road ran up into the woods. My 
sister and I called it “Adventure Lane.” In this 
pleasant house lived my maternal grandfather and 
grandmother, and for the first few years of our 
lives we lived there with them. My sister was two 
years younger than I. We were inseparable — we 
played the same games, adored books, and made up 
splendid adventures, in which the duck pond was a 
wide ocean on which we sailed little ships of paper, 
and the rick yard with its golden hay and straw 
stacks, a land of rich treasure. We were never so 
happy as when we wandered in the woods, making 
I 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


garlands of flowers, looking for elves and fairies, 
which we always hoped to catch a glimpse of in the 
lovely spring and summer, or In the winter when we 
sat together before the fire playing with our huge 
family of dolls. 

Our grandparents were old-fashioned, they loved 
us dearly and cared for us tenderly, but they did not 
understand me very well. They thought I had 
queer ideas and uncanny ways — Margaret, fat, 
round and jolly, they understood better — but they 
made us very happy in their own prim way, and left 
us to play our games together. The village where 
they lived was sleepy and old-world, four miles from 
the station, and seven from the market town. The 
Vicar had a numerous family of boys and girls with 
whom we played many a romping game, but as I 
said to Margaret, “ they play with their hands, but 
not with their minds.” These and the little girls at 
the Hall, were the sole companions of our own age. 

My mother was a tall, dark woman, with a very 
fine figure and wonderful complexion. She was the 
only child, and much spoilt when young, so that It 
was astonishing that she grew up to be as agreeable 
and amusing as she was. She had a passion for 
pretty clothes, a rather plaintive voice and reclined 
more often than sat, for she was a trifle lazy — 
the early morning life of the country was very dis- 
tasteful to her, but hidden away beneath a rather 
2 


CHILDHOOD 


lazy manner, was an ambitious spirit. Her home 
life in its monotonous simplicity bored her, and she 
pined for a fuller life and social success. Then my 
father came to stay at the old-fashioned house. 
Robust, red of face, with a rather pompous manner 
and compelling personality, he made a great impres- 
sion on her. He came from London town, the secret 
goal of her ambitions. He swept her away from 
the many suitors of the country, and realizing that 
her ambitions matched his own, he wooed and won 
her. The son of an iron master, who desired him 
to follow in his footsteps, he broke away, for he 
wished to be a barrister. All day he slaved in his 
father’s office, but sat up most of the night studying 
law books. He won scholarships and went to Cam- 
bridge, ate his dinners, and in time attained his 
desire, and became a Member of the Bar, and it 
was when he had been practicing for about a year, 
that he fell in love with and married my mother. 

Life was very bright and pleasant for the young 
people, and in due course I was born and later my 
sister, and when she was about six years old, my 
father began to speculate. 

We of course knew nothing of all this, for our 
days were spent between the White House and the 
flat in London, Whitehall Court. Here we looked 
over the trees of St. James’s Park and the famous 
Horse Guards, for the War Office of to-day had 
3 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


not reared its majestic height to block the view — 
we walked in the Park every day with our governess, 
and on Thursdays, our mother’s At Home Day, we 
went into the drawing-room to tea with her friends. 

kWe sang little songs and danced little dances to 
amuse the guests, and when they had gone, we used 
to make for the cherry cake and pick out all the 
cherries. At this age, I was beginning to observe 
life and individuals, how people dressed, their man- 
ner of speech, whether their expression was happy, 
or unhappy, and many things began to interest and 
puzzle me. Amongst others, I noticed that my 
father and mother were not very happy. I some- 
times found my mother crying, or looking defiant, 
and I heard my father’s voice raised in anger or 
controversy — then there would be intervals — they 
would go to Paris together with parties of friends, 
or to gay Ostend, my mother smiling and cheerful 
with lots of pretty clothes, and my father quite kind 
to her. We had not many troubles, but we hated 
going to bed early, and always tried to put the clock 
back so that we might sit up late, and see our mother 
in her evening dress, diamonds glittering in her 
hair, and on her neck — her brocade cloak and rich 
dresses made us think of the princesses of fairy tales. 
About this time our grandmother died, and the 
holidays spent at the house of our pleasure in the 
country were over. We wept bitterly, for we saw 
4 


CHILDHOOD 


very little of green trees and flowers in London. 
Our holidays that year were spent at Brighton, 
which though a good place for grown-ups was a 
poor place for children, for as Margaret said, they 
had forgotten to clear away the pebbles — numbers 
of smartly dressed elders paraded up and down the 
lawns, fashionably attired, smattering all too much 
of London. Here on Sunday, starched and sashed, 
the elastic of our straw hats cutting our chins, we 
were marched off to church to sit squashed between 
a great many people while one man talked. 

Our parents were a little erratic in their treat- 
ment of us, sometimes we were completely ignored, 
and did not see either of them from one week’s end 
to another; and at other times we were taken out to 
theaters, and At Homes with older people, and so 
became very interested in the world, and though we 
played with our dolls at home we heard all sorts of 
things discussed, and even ventured to give our 
opinions to the elders on a variety of subjects. I 
used to write little stories, which I read to my sis- 
ter, or told her when we were out for our monoto- 
nous walks in St. Jame’s Park or the Embankment 
Gardens — life for a year or two was fairly quiet 
— the only variety was the procession of gover- 
nesses, who one and all seemed to get married from 
our house. We had a great respect for one of these 
ladies who was a Primitive Methodist, and had 
5 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


very narrow opinions of God and His restrictions to 
human beings. Margaret said, after one of her 
discourses, “I believe God is a very irritable old 
man with a long beard, who doesn’t want anybody 
to laugh or play or sing,” and we gathered that he 
loved instead long faces, long prayers, drab colors, 
and people who whispered. This lady was virtu- 
ous and conscientious according to her light, but she 
very nearly made us hate Christianity — luckily she 
married a man as holy as herself, and they went to 
live at Ealing, where once and once only we spent 
the day and night with her, and were so severely 
prayed about the following morning, on empty 
stomachs, because it was before breakfast that my 
sister cried bitterly and couldn’t eat her porridge, 
and mother was a vision of delight when she came 
to take us back home. All this made me think a 
good deal about religion, and I wondered why, if 
God hated beautiful colors and happy noises of 
singing. He had made the sky so exquisitely blue 
and the birds to sing so sweetly; but the passing of 
the Primitive Methodist lady left us open to other 
influences — a very charming and cheerful gover- 
ness now came to us. She took an interest in games, 
understood our belief in Santa Claus, walked with 
us in the Lowther Arcade, a heavenly place, now 
alas no longer existing, and at last persuaded mother 
to let her take us to an old farm house near the sea 
6 


CHILDHOOD 


in Hampshire for our annual holiday — and so one 
lovely day, we three left hot and dusty London, and 
after a journey of the greatest possible length, or 
so we felt, arrived at the enchanted spot. Here 
was a flower laden garden, a tiny lawn, a field of 
corn and poppies, and beyond, the sparkling, shim- 
mering sea and miles and miles of stretching yellow 
sand. 

Our new governess played the part of fairy god- 
mother, and with a wave of her wand opened for us 
the gates of a magic kingdom. 

We spent days of pure delight, running along the 
sands, paddling in the shining waves, watching the 
gulls dipping and swimming in the hot air, gathering 
huge bunches of scarlet poppies to decorate our little 
house, and growing day by day, stronger and 
browner, and fonder of our little governess, who 
with her fair hair blowing in the wind, her white 
blouse and short blue skirt, seemed the most delight- 
ful playmate in the world — she understood when 
we peeped out of our bedroom window on still 
nights, striving to see the mermaids sporting in the 
silver sea. She was quite in sympathy when we tip- 
toed up to each flower in the garden at sunset and 
tried to see the fairies just waking to life. And 
when we found the dark fairy rings in the grass on 
dewy mornings, she danced hand in hand with us 
round the circle, just for luck ” as we all said. 
7 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 

She never clipped the wings of our imagination, and 
from them beauty, light, color, and nature began to 
speak to me. I grew to be something of a mystic. 
I saw a spiritual symbol behind quite ordinary ob- 
jects. Life began to mean something great and 
splendid, the door of my mind stood wide open, in- 
viting in ideal visitants. I decried shapes and forms 
of beauty — my small sister was more practical, 
she used to tug at my dress when I stood watching 
the glowing sunset on the sands. “ God has made 
the sky very beautiful,’* she would say, “ but if we 
move further up the beach, we can see it just as 
well, and we shall not get our feet wet.” In many 
ways she was different from me, just as full of fancy, 
and whimsical humor, but more boyish, more sensi- 
ble, less fantastic in her imaginings — she made 
friends wherever she went, and had a smile for 
every one, she sang queer little snatches of song and 
trilled away like a bright bird from early morning 
till she was tucked up in bed. We always knew that 
she was ill if her little voice was still, and her tune- 
ful carollings quiet. She was a pugilist too, and on 
one occasion at the age of eight, she had knocked a 
little boy’s tooth out in a hand to hand struggle for 
the possession of some coveted treasure, and the 
boy with much gallantry had presented her with the 
tooth, not as a love token, but as a trophy of her 
prowess. Towards the end of our all too fleeting 
8 


CHILDHOOD 


holiday in this wonderful place, we had a great sur- 
prise. At breakfast one morning, our pretty gov- 
erness uttered an exclamation of pleasure after 
reading a letter. “ Children, your mother writes to 
say, your father has made a great deal of money 
and you are all going to be very well off.” Her 
eyes danced as she imparted the thrilling news. 
“Listen, you are to move from Whitehall Court, 
and to go to a lovely house in Grosvenor Square.” 

“ How will it be lovely,” asked the practical Mar- 
garet, “will the seaside be in it, will the sand be in 
it, will there be beautiful, delicious waves to paddle 
about in?” 

“ Don’t be a silly baby. The house will have rich 
furniture and fine pictures and huge airy rooms.” 

“ But it will be London.” 

“ Of course it will be London.” 

“ And however large the rooms are, and however 
wide the windows are, we can only see London and 
houses when we look out?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then I do not know whv we should be as glad 
as glad.” 

“ But, darling, listen, your mother writes ‘ the 
children’s schoolroom and nursery are quite sweet 
with white walls, pale blue carpet, two little beds 
with blue silk curtains, held up by golden cupids, and 
they shall each have a pony to ride in the Park.’ ” 

9 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


This was better, a pony was no mean gift, all 
story book children had ponies, and those cupids over 
the beds had possibilities. 

“ We can pretend they are our own fairies,” said 
Margaret. 

“ I will call my cupid Ambrosia,” I said. 

“ I will call mine George,” she said, “ it sounds 
safe to look after us at night and protect us from 
ghosts and goblins.” 

“ Ambrosia is more romantic,” I hazarded. 

“ George is more safer,” she decided. 

And George he was until the end of our luxurious 
life in Grosvenor Square. 

The day of departure came and although we 
deeply regretted leaving the sea and freedom, there 
was a certain pleasure in going back to a new house 
with ponies and cupids of gold mixed in with it. 

The house was all our governess had pictured 
from my mother’s letter — there were marble pil- 
lars in the hall, a grand staircase, marvellous pic- 
tures and baskets of exquisite flowers in all the 
rooms. An enormous drawing room furnished in 
old gold brocade, a lift which made us feel very 
superior indeed, and a suite of rooms set apart for 
my mother all pink and gold. There were many 
bedrooms, and our nurseries and a schoolroom. It 
was all very grand and large and strange, and we 
felt we had strayed into a palace which did not be- 
lO 


CHILDHOOD 


long to us. A new maid brought us our supper, and 
after we had explored the house, we got ready for 
bed. We had seen our golden cupids, Ambrosia 
and George, the soft blue carpet and the silken cur- 
tains and rejoiced In them all. The servants were 
new, we had a butler and two footmen, neat, solemn 
men, who made us think of the people who hand 
around the plate In church. Whilst we were un- 
dressing, our mother came rushing in, she kissed us 
and spoke excitedly about the great fortune my 
father had made, she said she was so happy, and 
was just going out to a big party — she had on a 
green chiffon dress with diamond shoulder straps, 
and ,a deep sapphire velvet cloak with white fur on 
It. We felt very glad she was our mother, and a 
good deal of the strangeness began to wear off. 

“Are you glad to be back, darlings?” asked 
mother. 

“ Yes, but the country is nicer than London.” 

She laughed. I 

“ But you lived In a tiny cottage.” 

“ We had the sea and there seems to be more 
sky in the country.” 

“ Fanciful darlings. Good-night, sleep well in 
your new little beds.” 

She kissed us and floated out, waving her hand 
as he went. 

We had our hair brushed that night by the new 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


school-room maid. My sister was rather talkative 
to her. She was a thin, dark girl, with a white face, 
a solemn expression, and big black eyes. 

“Are you always going to brush our hair?” said 
Margaret. 

“ Xes, Miss Margaret.” 

“ Then we’d better come to an understanding. I 
like mine in four curls, not six, because they are 
lumpy to lie on, and not too tightly rolled, because I 
can’t have my good hair broken.” 

“ No, Miss Margaret.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“ Kate, Miss.” 

“ I don’t like the name Kate,” I joined in, 
“ haven’t you got another name.” 

“ Yes, Miss, Katheleen is my real name.” 

“ It would take too long to call you Katheleen, 
we’d better call you Kate.” 

“Yes, Miss.” 

She finished our hair, folded our things neatly, 
and departed, and when our dear Governess came 
in we told her how we missed her. But she said 
Kate was a nice quiet girl, and we’d better get used 
to some of the changes. She kissed us both and 
turning out the light, went out into the other room. 

I felt restless and inclined to talk. It was easier 
to talk in the dark than in the light. 

“ I feel all mixed up,” I said, “ I miss the sound 


12 


CHILDHOOD 


of the sea and the smell of the seaweed; we used 
to smell it at night blowing in the window.” 

“ There is a sound outside, a sort of roar.” 

“ That’s the noise of the carriages and buses,” 
I said, listening. 

“ It’s a little bit like the sea in the distance when 
it was rough,” said Margaret. 

“ Let us pretend it is the sea, could you pretend 
it is? ” 

“ I could, awfully easily,” said she, “ I like to, 
let’s listen.” 

So we listened lying there in the big darkness, a 
thin line of light came in under the door, which led 
to the schoolroom and told us our little governess 
was still there. As we listened to the roar of the 
traffic, we fell asleep. 


CHAPTER II 


BEING RICH 

The next morning we did some more exploring 
and made some discoveries. We found a room 
called the Oriental Room; never was there such a 
wonderful place. The walls were of red glass be- 
hind carved sandalwood, and behind the glass again 
electric light, so that when the light was turned on 
there was a soft crimson glow, dim and mysterious. 
The roof of this room was like a dome, and sus- 
pended from it were jeweled lamps. There were 
low divans with gorgeous embroidered cushions, and 
little carved tables smelling of cedar-wood The 
whole room had a queer Eastern scent. A house 
which contained such a room as this could no longer 
be anything but a cherished abode. We were proud 
to call it home. There were endless possibilities in 
this room for imaginative children. It was a 
mosque, a church, an Eastern palace, a Moorish 
prison, and Aladdin’s cave. We talked of nothing 
else on our walk in Hyde Park that afternoon. 

“ But, my dear children, you will not have that 
room for your games,” said Armie. We always 
called her Armie, though her name was Armstrong. 
i4 


BEING RICH 


“We must,’* said Margaret, “grown-ups would 
never understand such a room.” 

“ I hope we shall be allowed to go in often,” I 
said, “ it is the heart of the house. We shall never 
break anything in it, we shall treat it as gently as 
we would a new fluffy chicken.” 

“Well, we will see,” said Armie. 

And when we went down to dessert, I determined 
to ask about it. I sat on a chair near my father, and 
Margaret sat on his lap, turning her eye on him 
critically. 

“You don’t look any richer than you did, 
daddy,” she said. 

“ But mother looks richer,” I said, “ her dress is 
very beautiful — and she looks — more ” — “More 
as if she’s got whiat she wants,” broke in my father. 

“ I have,” said mother, sipping her coffee. 

“We want to know if we can, once a day, go into 
the Oriental room, daddy.” 

“Yes,” said Margaret, “we think it the most 
beautifullest room in the world.” 

“ It is an interesting room,” said my father, “ all 
the trappings came from Constantinople.” 

“ Can we go there? ” I asked anxiously. 

“ My chicks, it is so gloomy and dark I can’t 
understand why you like it and the divans are on 
the floor so that if I get down I can’t get up, and it 
smells as musty as a church; I don’t like it.” 

15 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ It looks as if you children can monopolize it, 
then,” said my father. 

“ Oh I no, dad, we don’t want to do that, we only 
want to go in it, not mopolize it.” 

They laughed, and from that day the Oriental 
room was ours. It became a part of us and our 
games, and we had a feeling of happiness if we only 
spent half an hour in its dim rosy walls. 

The days passed happily. Armie gave us our 
lessons, we walked in the Park, we learnt to ride 
the ponies, we went out to tea with many youthful 
friends, who seemed to appear like magic, because 
we had become rich. They were always very im- 
pressed by the Oriental room. We played Pilgrim’s 
Progress all over the house, and ended up there in 
the celestial city, which we named the room, after 
our weary wanderings over tables and chairs and up 
and down the long staircase. 

Though we were happy and irresponsible, some 
vague influence seemed at work in the big house; our 
parents having got over the excitement of being rich, 
grew accustomed to entertaining in luxury and be- 
came again discontented with each other. One day 
I went into the morning room suddenly, and I saw 
my father and mother there with a very pretty 
girl. My mother’s voice was caught with sobs, the 
girl looked flushed and defiant. My father said, “ I 
shall leave you if I may not do as I like, and bring 
i6 


BEING RICH 


what friends I like into my own house.” My 
mother s'aid, “ It would almost be better than the 
sort of friends you bring.” 

Then they saw me and I was told to run away. 

The next day I saw the butler packing up my 
father’s things and taking them on a cab away from 
the house. 

“Has my father gone away?” I asked mother. 

And she said, “,Yes, he has gone to Paris for a 
few weeks.” 

And she invited some women friends to stay and 
gave them a very pleasant time. She was always 
out driving and shopping and going to parties. 
The papers used to call her the pretty Mrs. Suther- 
land, and talk of her handsome dresses. Sometimes 
she took me out as well. One day when we were 
going to drive in the Park, the footman was tucking 
the rug ’round us, some lilies of the valley on her 
hat caught in the cockade on his hat. He was 
unable to move. 

“That will do, Frederick,” said my mother. “ Go 
to the Park.” 

“ Can’t move, madame,” said the embarrassed 
young man. “ My ’at’s caught In your ’at, if you 
will pardon the liberty.” 

We couldn’t help laughing as we helped to dis- 
entangle the two hats. 

Several friends^some of whom I shall always re- 
17 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


memberi came to the house. One was an old lady 
who had a tiny black toy terrier, which used to snap 
at our heels. She said, “ Tiny is only playing, dear.” 
But it hurt me, and whenever she came to tea I used 
to be terrified, for I knew that though she kissed me 
at one end, the dog would be biting me at the other. 

My father came back from Paris, and bought 
mother a diamond necklace. She was very pleased 
with it and wore it at all the parties, for they now 
entertained very lavishly. 

We saw mother less and less. She was always just 
off for somewhere. She swept in to kiss us good 
night sometimes, a radiant vision of satin and lace. 
She had attained her desire, at any rate, from a 
worldly point of view, for she was invited every- 
where and was the center of attraction. Money 
was plentiful and friends innumerable. My father 
headed big public movements and spoke at many 
meetings. On Sunday he took us driving in Rich- 
mond Park in the spanking phaeton with its pair of 
goodly chestnuts. We had tea at the Star and Gar- 
ter Hotel and walked down the hill afterwards 
under the trees. We ate a good many cakes at tea 
time, and loved to see the view from the Terrace 
of the hotel. The trees looked purple, the pink sky 
was reflected in the winding river and the whole 
valley grew soft and misty like a crayon drawing. 
It was so peaceful and gentle with the Sunday even- 
18 


BEING RICH 


ing bells chiming out of the mist, that I did not 
want to go home. 

Sometimes our delightful godfather, a Colonel in 
the Tenth Hussars, went with us. He often came 
to see us, and brought us presents, and generally 
lunched with us on Sundays. He used to peel us 
fruit and crack nuts for us, and after lunch he pre- 
tended to be an ogre, and crept round the table 
after us saying, “ Fe-fo-fum, I smell the blood of 
an Englishman.” And we fled in terror before him. 
Then he would smile and say, “ No more ogres, only 
a nice kind godfather.” And we flew into his arms, 
much relieved. 

Another personality I remember, was an elegant 
old lady, who had been at the Court of Russia, and 
whose husband was a great favorite of the Czar. 
She had a face like white ivory, her hands were ex- 
quisite, her hair was silvery gray and she always 
wore a black lace cap with a long lace veil behind, 
which hid a plait of silver hair as thick as a man’s 
wrist. She could not do her hair up, it was too long, 
so wore it down concealed in this veil. 

Whenever she came she stayed hours and hours, 
and when my mother was obliged to leave her and 
go out to fulfill an engagement, she would not 
be daunted. “ I will join the children in the school- 
room and try to amuse them.” 

She did join us but she didn’t amuse us, for she 

19 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


repeated the same anecdotes and stories to us until 
we knew them by heart. At last one day Margaret 
could bear it no longer. We both decided to stop 
it, and when she said, “ I don’t think I’ve told you 
little girls this story before,” we said both together, 
standing in front of her, our hands behind us, “ Yes, 
thank you, you have told us that story before, heaps 
of times, and as we have our lessons to do, we are 
afraid we must wish you good evening.” 

For which act we were severely scolded by Armie. 

But nevertheless it put a stop to it. 

Things began to be a little strange at this time. 
We were not told of any loss of money, but one or 
two of the servants were dismissed and the others 
had to do more work. For instance, Kate became 
the housemaid as well as the nurserymaid. We had 
grown very fond of her, and often when Armie 
went to spend the day out, Kate sat with us while 
we played with our dolls. She used to sew and talk 
of her home in the country, not as if she liked it, 
but as of something she was well out of. 

“You don’t like the country,” I said to her 
wondering how she could dislike it. 

She shook her head. “ No, it’s dull, people don’t 
half live, the lights are out early, and you all go to 
bed, there’s no traffic and noise.” 

“ That’s nice,” said Margaret, “ there’s only bird 
noises and trees sighing in the wind.” 


20 


BEING RICH 


“Lot too much sighing in the country,” she said; 
“people get like turnips.” 

“ you are not like a turnip,” said Margaret, look- 
ing at her critically. 

“ I left home when I was young,” said Kate, “ or 
I should have been.” 

It seemed very strange the country could appear 
so different to people. We only saw the sun-flecked 
meadow-lands and heard the singing birds, and 
thought it a wonderful and peaceful place. Kate 
found it a place of stagnation and preferred the 
noise of the traffic, and the glare of the street lamps 
after dark, and being an enterprising young person, 
she packed up her boxes and set out to make her 
living in the environment which most appealed to 
her. She had quite won Margaret’s heart by the 
great care she had taken of her hair, which was fair 
and silky but neither long nor thick; under Kate’s 
careful hand, it began to be both. I used to watch 
them at night. Kate handled the hair most tenderly, 
taking a small comb, parting it and brushing the 
separate strands with even strokes, then rolling it up 
in soft silk instead of screwing it into harsh paper. 

Our mother grew very melancholy as the days 
passed. She went out a great deal, but my father 
was not with her much. He went away very often, 
and when he was at home, was not very amiable to 
any of us. 


21 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ Being rich has not made mother very happy,” 
I said to Armie one day. 

And Armie said, “ Money does not buy happi- 
ness.” 

I said, “Do people always make each other un- 
happy when they are married?” 

“ No, very seldom.” 

“Would you like to be married, Armie?” 

“ I shall be one day.” 

“ I don’t want to be married, and I never will be,” 
I announced. 

“ Neither will I,” said Margaret, “ because there 
seems to be something cross about being married.” 

I was about twelve, and very fond of reading. I 
devoured all sorts of literature, fairy tales and au- 
tobiographies, even Horner’s Penny Stories, which 
Kate liked very much and read aloud to us some- 
times on Sunday evenings. We found the people in 
them rather too holy, and like the governess who 
went to live at Ealing. The little girls were always 
reading the Bible and dying, and the older ladies 
giving up pretty dresses and going out as mission- 
aries to tell the heathen people about God, which I 
thought a waste of time. Margaret used to talk 
about it with me. We thought we would ask Kate. 

“ Haven’t they got a God out there where the 
Missionaries go?” said Margaret. 

“ Yes,” said Kate, “ some sort of God, I suppose.” 

22 


BEING RICH 


“ Out in China, Japan and Timbuctoo, I suppose,” 
said Margaret. 

“ And the Cannibal Islands,” I said. “ I know 
they went there.” 

“ Isn’t the Chinese and Cannibal Island’s God as 
nice as ours? ” I asked. 

“ Lord, no,” said Kate, “ just a graven image, and 
a hidjus one at that.” 

“ Don’t they know about ours, out there ? ” 

“ Some do and some don’t.” 

“Why should their God be awful and ours 
good? Does ours only like English people? ” 

“ You do harp. Miss Margaret, I will say,” said 
Kate. 

“ But,” I persisted, “ have you seen ours? ” 

“ No,” said she shocked, “ ’course not, in these 
days, all that was long ago.” 

“ Has anyone seen the God of the Chinese and 
heathens? ” 

“ Dear me. Miss, I don’t suppose so.” 

“ Then how do we know that ours is the best 
one ? ” 

“ I think I’ll be getting the tea,” said Kate. 

Both Margaret and I agreed that we had won and 
she was foiled. 

I saved up my money at this time, and bought a 
statue of Our Lord with a benevolent face and 
kind hands outstretched, and at the same time, a 

23 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Statue of Buddha in imitation bronze, and I put 
them side by side on a shelf in the schoolroom and 
pondered on their different merits, preferring the 
beautiful Christ, but anxious to be fair to Buddha. 

We had been in our luxurious house for nearly 
four years when the smash came. It was like the 
bursting of a dark cloud. We did not know what 
had happened, only that one day Armie swept us 
into her arms, and said she would have to leave us, 
and we all cried bitterly together. Our mother, too, 
was deeply grieved at the parting, but as we were 
going abroad and Armie was engaged to be married, 
she could not go with us. There was not much 
time for repining, for about a week after Armie’s 
departure we were astonished to find Kate busy 
packing our boxes, and telling us to take the dolls 
and toys that we wanted, for we were going away. 
We saw mother going swiftly about the house, or 
heard that she was talking business in the morning 
room. The servants looked harried and some of 
them left. Kate became very important and told 
us she was going abroad with us to look after us. 
We were very glad of this, because if we had to go 
abroad, we knew that Kate would make it seem less 
strange. 

The day of departure came. It was all so hur- 
ried, we had no time to be sad. Mother, Margaret, 
Kate and I were on our way in the train to Dover; 

24 


BEING RICH 


before we realized what had happened. The sea 
journey was a new adventure. We were greatly 
interested at seeing all the French porters and fish- 
erwomen at Calais. There was a great noise of por- 
ters shouting loudly, the women on the station sold 
funny little dolls in Boulogne caps, the crowd hur- 
ried to and fro, the noise of the trains steaming in 
and out of the station, and the sirens on the ships 
hooting and screaming, gave us a feeling of small- 
ness wc had never felt before. 

We landed safely in the Paris train at last, climb- 
ing the high steps with an effort, and had a delicious 
lunch in the Restaurant Car. 

Mother looked tired and pale and spoke a good 
deal in a low voice to Kate, who nodded and mur- 
mered soothingly. Arriving in Paris, we drove at 
once to a large hotel, where numbers of people were 
passing in and out speaking in French and gesticu- 
lating, or sitting at little tables, sipping their coffee, 
and regarding newcomers with idle curiosity. 

Our rooms faced the Tuilleries Gardens, and we 
went out on to the little balcony and saw the twink- 
ling lights far below and the traffic streaming along 
the Rue de Rivoli, We jumped on the bed and 
peeped in the cupboards; all was new and fraught 
with interest; in fact it was “ abroad.” 

We didn’t have much hair brushing that night, 
but tumbled into bed tired out with the journey, 

25 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


The next day was fine. Mother looked much 
brighter, and said she would take us to drive in a 
cab in the Bois de Boulogne. The cab was small 
and rlcketty. The man made funny noises to the 
horse, and cracked his wip and flew round the cor- 
ners so quickly that we thought we should fall out. 
The Bois was crowded with cabs and carriages, and 
on the footpath walked the little French boys and 
girls — they looked quite different from English 
ones; the little girls wore plaid or blue and white 
check frocks and stiff sailor hats, and the boys, quite 
big ones, wore short knickerbockers and socks. We 
thought this funny and laughed at them. There 
were gendarmes and soldiers, and nurses with col- 
ored cloaks and white caps, with wonderful long 
ribbon streamers, carrying or wheeling tiny babies. 
There were kiosks, where papers were sold, and 
small wooden houses where a man In a striped coat 
made “ gauffres ” on a little stove, fresh for each 
newcomer. There were balloon women, whose 
floating colored air balloons looked like monster 
bunches of grapes. It was absorbing in the extreme, 
and we took it all in as we drove along in the ricketty 
little cab on that sunny morning. 

“Are we going to live in Paris, mamma?” 
asked Margaret. 

“No, darling, we are going on to Wiesbaden, 
where I have some friends.” 

26 


BEING RICH 


“Is It far?” 

“We shall get half way in the evening, that is, 
as far as Cologne.” 

“Is that where Eau de Cologne grows?” 

“ That Is where It is made.” 

“It must smell nice, that place.” 

We had luncheon at twelve o’clock, and after- 
wards Kate took us for a walk to see the shops. We 
saw a lot of steps leading up to a big church. It was 
the Madeline. We went in, It was vast and dark and 
very lofty. It smelt of some scent, like the Oriental 
room. People were kneeling In the pews, or pass- 
ing softly up the aisles, candles gleamed out of the 
darkest corners, and statues of saints looked down 
on us very kindly. It was our first visit to a Roman 
Catholic church and Impressed me ominously. 

“Isn’t It dim and smelly?” I whispered to 
Margaret. 

“ It makes my nose tickle,” said Margaret, “ and 
the people look awfully solemn.” 

“Is It the same god as ours?” I whispered to 
Kate, wbo was looking about with Interest. 

“ Yes, Miss, I think so, only a different way of 
arranging things.” 

“ It’s nicer than St. Glle’s at home which smells 
of varnish and prayer books. It’s more as if there 
was a real person in It.” 

Then Kate took us home, because we had to go to 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


bed early, and we went down the steps of the Made- 
line reluctantly. 

“I must have my hair brushed to-night,” said 
Margaret, “ it looked quite dull this morning.” 

Mother had met some friends and was dining with 
them. We were always glad to see her looking 
cheerful, because as Margaret said, “ she hasn’t got 
a husband here to comfort her, and he wouldn’t 
comfort her if he was here.” 

The journey to Cologne was very tedious, indeed, 
and we were so tired when we arrived we went to 
sleep in the bus. . . . 

The next day we visited the famous Cathedral 
and walked on the cobble stones. The carts made 
a great noise clattering over these stones. 

We had lunch at a small cafe overlooking the 
Rhine, and afterwards ate a great many mulberries 
from one of the trees, and made our lips and teeth 
dark blue, to the horror of mother and Kate. The 
following morning we started for Wiesbaden. 


CHAPTER III 


LIFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 

Wiesbaden was a place quite after our own hearts, 
for it had many avenues of trees, pleasure gardens 
and beautiful surrounding country. We had taken 
rooms at a very nice family hotel overlooking the 
Kursaal Gardens. There were charming walks and 
drives into the country. While Kate unpacked, we 
flitted from room to room rearranging the furni- 
ture, which was stiff and hard, and pulling the two 
small beds together so that we could talk at night. 

In one corner was a large heating stove, made of 
blue and white glazed tiles, instead of a fireplace, 
and when we had got out our family of dolls and 
other toys, our paint boxes and story books, we 
began to feel quite at home. 

Mother’s room and sitting room comprised the 
little suite, and Kate had a room opposite. German 
meals were arranged differently from ours, an enor- 
mous, substantial middleday dinner, coffee at 4.30, 
and a sort of high tea at 7 o’clock. 

Mother was much displeased at what she termed 
such a suburban mode of living,” but as she had 
some nice introductions and knew several people in 
29 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


the hotel, she made her own little circle and went 
very often to the Kursaal concerts, the Opera and 
dinner parties. 

When we had been there about a month, she de- 
cided we must no longer remain idle, and inquired 
for a good school, and having heard of a nice con- 
vent, where the nuns took day pupils, and where 
they gave an excellent training at a very moderate 
price, she made arrangements for us to go there. 

It was bitterly cold the day we started school, and 
I remember Kate took us on the first morning. We 
ran hard to try and get warm, but at the corners the 
wind was piercing and went through us like a knife. 
The dry leaves ran along in front of us, or swirled 
In whirlpools round our feet. At last we arrived at 
a little square, on one side of which, through 
wrought iron gates, stood a large white house. On 
the gate was written on a brass plate, ** Convent ” 
with a black cross on the top. We opened the gate 
and went up a paved path to the door. Kate rang 
the bell and it clanged somewhere a long way in- 
side, and presently the door was opened by a rosy- 
faced nun. She wore a black dress, white collar 
and gauffred cap with long black veil. She opened 
the door with both hands and smiled at us. 

She said, “ Bitte,” which is “ please ” in German. 
Margaret answered, “ Yes, isn’t it.” 

Kate went, saying she would return at 4.30, and 

30 


LIFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 


left us in charge of the chubby nun who walked up 
three steps and beckoned us to follow her. Her 
rosary clicked as she walked, and her veil floated a 
little. She opened a door and ushered us into a 
large plain room, where she left us. The walls 
were dark green and on one there was a picture 
of the Pope in brownish color; a long table was in 
the middle of the room, with a fern on it in a blue 
pot. It was covered with shiny black stuff instead 
of a cloth, and books were arranged here and there 
in little piles of three. On a bracket opposite the 
picture of the Pope, was a small statue of the Ma- 
donna, with a blue lamp burning in front of it, and 
brass vases of autumn leaves on either side. 
Through folding doors at the side of the room came 
the sound of murmuring voices. 

“ I’m afraid Heaven will be extremely like this,” 
said Margaret. 

“ It’s like getting into another sort of world,” I 
said, “but I like it; that is a statue of the Virgin 
Mary with the light burning in front.” 

“Is it?” said Margaret, “she’s very pretty, I 
thought at first it was one of the nuns.” 

The door opened and a tall nun came in. She 
had large, dark eyes and a pale face. Her smile was 
very gentle. She spoke English to us, and said we 
were going to be in her class, and that she hoped we 
would become fond of the convent and soon 

31 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


learn a great deal. We assured her we would. 

She then took us into the chapel through the 
folding doors; red lamps blinked near the altar, 
and there was a smell of warm wax candles and in- 
cense. Several nuns knealt, saying their rosary, and 
our nun knelt too. She made the sign of the Cross 
over us as she led us out. And all this time the 
others were saying their rosary in a soft monotone. 

Life at the convent was very happy and full of 
work. We had lunch there and walked afterwards 
in the school crocodile. At four o’clock coffee and 
rolls were given. Sometimes we stayed for this, but 
often we went home and Kate made us our tea in the 
English fashion. 

We learned soon after that my father had lost all 
his money, and we now had to live on my mother’s 
small income, but we had many pleasant times in 
spite of financial misfortune. Sometimes we went 
by train to the Rhine and saw the old Palace at 
Biebrich, and ate our cakes and coffee looking out 
over the shining river, or else we took the road to 
the woods, up towards the Russian Chapel, which 
had real gold cupolas and lovely paintings inside. 
Here we would roam for hours with Kate, the pine 
trees long slender and pink, stretched in unending 
regiments into the distance, and through a gap in 
the trees, could be seen a splendid view of distant 
country. It was a never ending joy to us to wander 

32 


UFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 

here. Sometimes the trees looked like the long 
aisles of a vast cathedral, the red of the fallen 
leaves like a carpet of state, and when the sun was 
red, it shone at the end of the misty aisles, like a 
red lamp burning on the altar, while the blue smoke, 
rising up out of the valley from the woodmen’s cot- 
tages, seemed like incense as it curled against the 
sunset. These beautiful glimpses of nature gave 
me infinite delight, and just as people see forms and 
shapes in the red embers of a fire, I saw them in the 
woods. 

Life in the convent was also full of interest. The 
nuns with their soft movements and sable draperies 
seemed to me like shadows of people. 

When the door of the convent closed behind us 
each morning I felt as if a veil fell, and I was in 
another world. A world of saintly beings; their 
movements were quiet, unlike the hurried pedes- 
trians in the streets, their footfall noiseless. They 
were always busy teaching, walking with the pupils, 
or praying in the chapel. Quite small things pleased 
them. A little bird in a cage presented by one of 
the children for the classroom, a holy picture, a 
birthday of one of the boarders, they became quite 
excited and smiled and nodded like children and 
whispered to each other about these trifles as if 
they were important events. There heads were 
nearly always bent as they walked, their voices were 
33 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 

soft, their hands hidden in their long sleeves, or 
fingering their black and gold beads. Sometimes 
they paced sedately in the small garden, their dark 
robes rustling over the dry leaves, in twos and 
threes, conversing in sober tones. I watched them 
from the window of the classroom with awe and 
admiration; their lives so remote from the outside 
world seemed to me sad and pathetic. As a 
secret sorrow lies hidden in the heart of a world- 
ling, their lives were hidden in the heart of the 
world. 

Margaret was very popular and made numerous 
friends and we soon began to speak German quite 
well. 

The tall, pale nun with dark eyes. Sister Eleanora, 
in whose class we were, was my special friend. I 
often used to ask her if X might walk with her, 
when she took the school out. I looked upon her 
with profound respect. I had never met anyone like 
her. 

“ Are you sad about anything? ” I once asked her 
after studying her face. 

“ No, my child, not sad.” 

“ Your face looks always as if you were thinking 
of mournful things.” 

“ I am thinking, on the contrary, of very beautiful 
things.” 

“ Of angels? ’ 

“Yes. Of angels.” 


34 


LIFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 

“ Do you see them like that nun In the picture on 
the wall of the chapel?” 

“ I am not worthy to see them, my child.” 

“ If you are not worthy, nobody in the world is.” 

“ Perhaps I shall see them soon.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“ I am not very strong, and it will please Our 
Lord to take me to himself sooner than the others.” 

She became for me from that moment, almost 
sacred. I obeyed her every wish, and often brought 
her pots of flowers. She thanked me and was 
pleased, but could not keep them for herself, as she 
might not possess anything. It was the first time 
death had come near to me, and I saw this sweet 
creature so resigned, so un-afraid, that I was not 
at all horrified, only deeply impressed, and filled 
with the thought that if she feared nothing, I also 
need have no fear. It was the most gentle introduc- 
tion to the inevitable end of man, and no hand could 
have pointed more tenderly to something which 
might otherwise have seemed terrible to an imagina- 
tive child. . . . 

One of the introductions which my mother had 
was to a very charming old lady, a certain Princess. 
She Invited her to bring us to tea. We were dressed 
in our prettiest dresses and taken to the fine old 
house, and received by the Princess’ lady In waiting, 
and presently the Princess herself came in. She was 
35 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


dressed in stiff brown silk, with a thick gold chain 
and locket, and gold ear-rings quite four inches long. 
We made our curtsies, and she then told us to come 
in to tea. We had a very plain tea with rolls and 
dry sweet rusks. We felt uncomfortable and prim, 
and after tea the Princess showed us some pictures, 
and a very curious small iron tree, on which were 
hung iron rings, and bracelets, and brooches, and 
she told us that in the Franco-Prussian War, the 
German women had given their jewels to the coun- 
try, and received in return an iron reproduction of 
whatever they had sacrificed. We were impressed 
and Margaret said, “ Pve got a tin ring at home 
out of a cracker,” which seemed rather silly we 
thought on talking it over afterwards. 

At parting the Princess gave us each a little red 
leather Bible and kissed us and said we must come 
again soon. 

“ I think she’s a missionary trying to convert us,” 
said Margaret, as we were driving back to the 
hotel. 

“Why, darling?” said mother, who had been 
bored to death and was yawning. 

“ She gave us Bibles, just as if we were heathens.” 

“ Perhaps that’s because she is related to the 
Emperor,” I said. “ I believe Royalties have to 
be awfully religious.” 

“ What a dress,” said mother, who always noticed 

36 


UIFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 

people’s clothes. “ She must have seen the model In 
a fashion paper fifty years ago.” 

“ mice nuns better than Princesses,” I said to 
Margaret In bed that night. 

“ There’s not much to choose between them,” 
said Margaret sleepily, “ both are religious, only In 
different ways, and both seem unallve somehow.” 

I remembered with great clearness how I felt 
when eating one of those dry rusks at tea. I was 
terrified of drowning conversation when crunching 
It, and afraid when I bit It, a chip would fly off and 
hit the Princess, and I felt the quotation was wrong, 
and It ought to be “ uneasy lies the head that goes 
to tea with Princesses.” 

Christmas was a very great festival In these parts, 
even the poorest house had a little Christmas tree, 
and kept the time with feasting and rejoicing. The 
shops were gay with glittering tinseled dolls and 
red-hooded Santa Claus, and every kind of shining 
trifle, to hang upon the tree — the spirit of Christ- 
mas reigned even in the convent. The nuns were 
full of suppressed excitement, and hid funny parcels 
in their long sleeves, and smiled quite slyly, and 
pursed up their lips mysteriously, whenever the 
small boarders became too Inquisitive. 

The Chapel was thoroughly cleaned and every 

37 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


lamp and candlestick polished until it shone again. 
Myriads of candles appeared on the little altar. 
Pots of beautiful flowers from devout parents ar- 
rived for the Christmas Eve service. 

We stayed late at Sister Eleanora’s request, to 
receive gifts from the other children and to attend 
the little service. There was a tiny Bethlehem 
where lay a waxen figure of the infant Christ, the 
Madonna bending over Him and St. Joseph kneel- 
ing, with the three kings, offering gifts. Surrounded 
with holly and flowers a dim red lamp burning over- 
head, it almost seemed as if the figures moved 
slightly, in the scented, shadowy dusk — nuns and 
children sang fervently in Latin “Adeste Fidelis,” 
and we joined in English as fervently as the best of 
Catholics. The words were different, but the spirit 
was the same. After the service the nuns wished us 
a happy Christmas, and we walked back with Kate, 
muffled in woolen scarfs and serge coats, along the 
snowy crowded streets, which shone like Christmas 
cards in the bright light of the moon. 

When we got back to the hotel, Margaret turned 
and looked up. “ Many happy returns of the day,” 
she said, “ and many of them.” 

“What are you doing?” said Kate. “Come in 
out of the cold.” 

“Just wishing God many happy returns,” said 
Margaret. “ I think it’s only polite.” 

38 


LIFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 


She was quite right, she never left anyone out — • 

“ Many happy returns of the day, Lord,” I said, 
as we ran quickly after Kate into the warm hotel. 

We sat up very late, as there was a dance at the 
hotel, and we were allowed to watch the dancers. 
When at twelve o’clock we went to bed, we noticed 
that Kate had a pink bow on her hair, and she said 
she had just been given a box of chocolates by a nice 
young man. 

“ Very well spoken, though a foreigner,” she 
said. “ Have some chocolates.” 

We were very glad that Kate had a young man, 
as we munched almond chocolates with crystallized 
violets on the top. 

“Young men like girls,” said Margaret; “ I saw 
one kiss a girl in a blue dress to-night; they were 
standing behind a black satin screen with gold storks 
on it.” 

“ They like them awfully when they are trying to 
get them to marry them, but not after,” I said. I 
remembered mother and father. 

“ When I grow up, I shall pretend I’m going to 
marry one, get as many chocolates and flowers as I 
can, then I shall say when he asks me, no thank you, 
my father and mother were married, so I know what 
it is. Good morning.” 

“ It would be a sort of revenge,” said Margaret 
thoughtfully, “ but he was a very nice young man 
39 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


who kissed the girl, and her face looked as if the 
sun was shining on it.” 

“ It was the lamp,” I said. 

“ There wasn’t a lamp,” said Margaret. 

When the spring came and the snow melted, 
everything looked changed. The streets became 
avenues of feathery trees, the Kursaal Gardens 
were covered with flowers, and we went for long 
walks with the school. On each side of the road, the 
fruit trees were covered with pink and white bios* 
soms; the white looked like snow. The sky was blue 
with big white fleecy clouds, and often larks were 
singing high up somewhere. The children broke 
rank when we got out of town, and Sister Marie and 
Sister Eleanora sat on a seat near an open grass 
covered common, while the children ran about, pick- 
ing daisies, or chasing each other, their hats off, their 
long hair flying behind them as they ran. Margaret 
ran with the others and sometimes I did, but more 
often I stayed with Sister Eleanora. She sat so still 
on the green seat, the breeze just stirring her veil, 
her eyes looking up into the blue sky, or gazing 
away into the distance. 

“ Never forget how you may be consoled by the 
beauty of nature,” she said one day. “ Nature is 
the great healer.” 

“Why, Sister Eleanora?” 

“ Because she is so silent, she is not critical, she 
40 


LIFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 


is always beautiful — and have you not noticed the 
noises of nature are soothing?” 

“ I know, like waterfalls and waves whispering, 
and bees humming? ” I asked 

She nodded and patted my hand. 

“And leaves rustling, and birds chirping and 
herds lowing in the fields, I see you understand, I 
thought you would. I came into the schoolroom 
one day in the winter, and saw you absorbed in the 
sunset.” 

“ The room was red with it,” I said. “ It lit up 
the edges of the desks, and the statue of St. Michael 
in the garden, the branches of the trees, the old 
fountain, all of them were outlined with glory.” 

Sister Eleanora smiled. 

“ The spell is on you,” she said. “ Nature is the 
servant of God. If you love her, everything living, 
every animal, every blade of grass will be in sym- 
pathetic touch with you.” 

“ I wish I were more like you,” I said impulsively, 
“just like you; I want to be a nun, and live in a 
peaceful place, and meet good people, and have 
thoughts like yours.” 

“ Your thoughts can always live in a peaceful 
place, you can take them like a flock of sheep, into 
green pastures, beside still waters — you can guard 
your thought sheep from the wolves of worldliness,” 
she said gently. 


41 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ But the hotel is not peaceful,” I said, “ there 
are distracting noises, bells ringing, crowds of 
people talking, page boys running about.” 

“ Those are outside,” said she, “ there must be 
those kind of noises in the world. You must shut 
your ears to those and hear the inner sounds.” 

“ Inner sounds? ” 

In the midst of battle, you will remember, Joan 
of Arc heard the voices of the Saints, and the 
melodies of Heaven. Listen to the inner sounds, 
my child, and all the other noises will fade away.” 

“ Better be returning. Sister,” broke in Sister 
Marie, who had been walking up and down reading 
her breviary. 

Sister Eleanora rose and clapped her hands, and 
the children came hurrying to her, putting on their 
hats and smoothing their dresses, before they 
formed into twos. 

“ Thank you. Sister Eleanora,” I said as we 
walked back, “ I will remember.” And always after 
this I called by thoughts my flock, and when I was 
troubled later in life, I tried to lead them into the 
silent pasture lands of memory, and often saw my 
saintly Sister Eleanora, sitting on the green seat in 
her black habit, her face pale and tender, her thin 
white hands folded in her lap, the trees and sky 
making a background of beauty for her, and words 
of heavenly wisdom falling from her lips. Here, 

42 


lylFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 

then, was a second thought — a path leading up to 
gardens of reverie. 

Some time back she had spoken of Death, now 
she spoke of Nature. She was a fine musician, it 
was wonderful when she played the organ in the 
convent chapel. The organ in the church at home 
seemed quite different — A fat man sat on the stool, 
and his neck looked very red next to the white sur- 
plice, and he never played long pieces alone like she 
did — It was a special treat to listen to her — A 
stained glass window at the end of the chapel 
showed its colors when the sun was low, and they 
were reflected on to her black veil and robe, so that 
she seemed to be clothed in soft crimson and blue, 
like the Madonna in the pictures. 

Sometimes the music was like angels singing far 
up in the roof, sometimes like the rumbling of a 
storm, and great waves surging on a desolate shore. 
One delicate flute-like note seemed like the pipe of a 
wandering shepherd in an autumn wood, and when 
we sat together in the dim sanctuary, she carried 
with her the Peace of God. 

I persuaded mother to take us to the opera. 
There was music of another kind, romantic music, 
love music, music which created a sense of gardens 
of red roses, and two people, their arms entwined, 
walking in the garden. This perhaps was the mean- 
ing of love, and those two happy people looking at 
43 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


each other so kindly, brought tender ideas into my 
mind. When I told Margaret about it she said, “ I 
told you when the man kissed the girl, she looked 
very pretty and glad.” 

“ They were in love perhaps,” I suggested. 

“ Of course they were,” said Margaret. ‘‘ I 
believe it’s a very beautiful thing.” 

That was what it all meant, that stirring music; 
and I understood better the meaning of the sentence 
“ inner sounds,” for though I did not often go to 
the opera, I still heard in my mind, with exquisite 
delight, the melodies and soft cadences. Music 
went deep into my soul, and opened the gates of the 
flesh, giving a free glimpse of the eternal. How 
wonderful life was — there were so many doors one 
could open and peep in — People, personalities ab- 
sorbed me — I wondered how they lived, if they 
were happy or discontented, if they gathered from 
the resources of nature as much pleasure as I did. 
If the pretty girls were in love with some splendid 
young man, like the girl in the opera. If old people 
wrinkled and decrepit were as unafraid of death as 
my gentle nun — If music spoke to those ladies who 
sat upright on stiff chairs, looking critically over 
their glasses at the world in general, as it did to me. 

There was one of these at the hotel, her hair was 
dreadfully neat, her hands were always engaged 
with sharp steely knitting needles, but they were not 
44 


LIFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 

SO sharp and steely as her eyes and her tongue — I 
spoke to her one day, “ Do you hear the inner 
sounds,” I said, “ or only the hotel noises? ” 

“What are the inner sounds?” she asked. 

“ I know what they are, but I can’t explain very 
well. Like Joan of Arc heard, voices — ” 

“Voices, what kind of voices, you queer girl?” 

“ Voices that make you feel happy and very 
radiant about nothing in particular, thoughts when 
you go out on a spring morning, or hear a wonderful 
voice singing,” I tried to explain. 

“ I think your mother makes you too imagina- 
tive,” said the prim lady. 

And I knew she was as different from Sister 
Eleanora as a cold rainy day is to a mellow summer 
evening. 

A man fell in love with mother at this time, he 
was a tall man, his hands were nice, his face was 
very kind. He used to give us boxes of sweets and 
take mother for drives and walks, and we often 
went as well. She looked happy, and it was nice to 
see her so. He helped her out of the carriage very 
carefully, as if she were very precious. I learned 
after that he wanted to marry her, and thought she 
was a widow. She was very sad one day and told 
me she would not see him any more because she was 
married. I became very indignant. 

“ He is a good, careful man,” I said, “ he’s never 

45 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


cross mth you like father was. He looks at you 
with his eyes very softly. Why should you be 
unkind to him ? ” 

“ It is not right for a married lady to allow men 
to look at her softly,” said mother. 

“ Father looks at other people, he likes them 
better than you, I remember things,” I said. 

“ Hush, do not speak like that, you do not 
understand.” 

“ I do wish you would let me tell you some 
things,” I said. 

“ We will not speak of it any more.” 

“ I don’t want that nice man to be hurt,” I said, 
“ if you never see him again, you will be unhappy, 
he will be unhappy, I shall be unhappy. Three 
people will be unhappy, if you do that. My father 
will not be unhappy, whichever you do. He hasn’t 
sent you any money for a long time.” 

Mother shook her head. 

I’m afraid he has no money to send.” 

A week after this, the man who loved mother 
thanked me for being his friend, but told me I had 
not done much good, because mother was going 
away. And soon after, I learned we were leaving 
for London, as my father had sent us enough money 
to do so and she thought we ought to go back and go 
to school in our own country. 

We were sorry to leave. We said good-bye to 

46 


LIFE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY 


the nuns. I cried when Sister Eleanora kissed me, I 
knew I should not see her again, and she knew it, 
too. 

“We shall meet again though, my little girl,” she 
said, “ but it will be in a different place, and perhaps 
not for a very long time.” 

“ It is the different place that makes me feel so 
queer,” I said. 

“ It will be a more beautiful place than this,” she 
said softly. 

“ But this is sure, one can touch things here, and 
it is not so far off, and like a dream.” 

“ Do not cry.” She led me gently to the door, 
where Kate was waiting with Margaret. I threw 
my arms around her and then followed the others. 

When I looked back, she was still standing in the 
doorway. The sun was shining on her face, she 
nodded and smiled. The doves which belonged to 
the convent had just been fed. As she stood there 
they flew up like a white cloud all around her, and 
hid her from me. 

The man came to see us off and brought mother 
baskets of flowers and fruit. I heard him say, “ You 
will not change your mind and stay here? ” 

And she answered, “ My duty is to my husband 
and my little girls.” 

He kissed us both and he kissed mother’s hand. 

47 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


The train began to move slowly. He took off hia 
hat and stood looking at her, looking and looking, 
until he was lost in the distance. 

Mother sat down in a corner, holding the bunch 
of red roses he had given her. A tear fell on one 
of them like a drop of dew. 


CHAPTER IV 


LONDON AGAIN 

We arrived in London, it was getting dark, there 
was a fog — the lamps had halos ’round them, the 
traffic looked misty and phantom-like in the haze, 
there was a noise of cab whistles and crowds of 
people hurried along the dim streets. They all 
seemed very busy, and most of them looked poor. 

When we stopped at 183; Gloucester Place, a 
shabby man opened the cab door for us. His face 
was very thin, he had a beard growing, he looked 
very cold. He helped to take down our boxes. 
Kate rang the front door bell. A stout woman 
opened the door. She was the landlady. A new 
experience, and as we later discovered, rather an 
unpleasant one. She had a severe face, and wore a 
gray silk blouse and black alpaca skirt. 

Mother said, “ Here we are, Mrs. Jones. I hope 
you have nice fires for us as we are very cold.” 

And the woman said, “ I done my best to have 
everything comfortable. Madam.” 

We had a dining-room downstairs. But the 
drawing-room and all the other rooms were on the 
top floor. 


49 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


When we had washed our faces and brushed our 
hair, we went down to supper with mother. 

The room was furnished with dark red chairs, 
with a couch to match. The wallpaper was drab 
with green leaves and dull red flowers all over it. 
There were large dark blue vases on the mantel- 
piece, and a big gloomy sideboard, with a glass at 
the back, which made you look as if you wanted your 
face washed — A fire was burning, but it hadn’t been 
lighted long, for the room was very smoky, and 
little puffs coming out of the chimney every time the 
door was opened. The maid who waited on us hur- 
ried in and out very quickly, and we could hear other 
bells ringing. She had lots of people to wait on. 

“ So this is Apartments? ” I observed. 

“ Tm afraid Tm not going to like it a bit,” said 
Margaret. 

“ Nor am I,” said mother, ‘‘ but we must all try 
as we have to live here for the present.” 

“Will the fire always smoke? I’d almost rather 
not have a fire if it’s going on like that.” 

“ It’s nearly as foggy inside as it is out,” I said. 

“ That’s only because the chimney’s damp,” said 
mother; “ It will be all right to-morrow. Now you 
had better go to bed; send Kate down and I will 
give her some supper.” 

We climbed up the dingy stairs — on the landing 
there was a gas jet with a fluted pink glass globe 

50 


LONDON AGAIN 


on it. The gas was turned on too much, so that the 
flame appeared above the globe, and it made a sort 
of singing noise. We stood looking at it. 

“ Do you think it’s safe? ” I said. 

“ I don’t know,” said Margaret, “ but it’s rather 
a nice noise, like a kettle singing.” 

“ If it isn’t safe the house will burn down.” 

“ It’s not at all a pretty house, I don’t think it 
would matter,” said Margaret. I rather agreed 
with her. 

And we went on upstairs. 

Kate had unpacked our night things. Our bed- 
room fire did not smoke, but looked very red and 
cosy. We were used to sleeping in new places, and 
there was always the splendid to-morrow. 

“ It’s a funny house,” I said to Kate when she 
was leaving us for the night. 

She sniffed. “We’ve been in worse places,” she 
said. “ It’s London that’s good enough for me.” 

She closed the door, and I heard her shoes squeak- 
ing away down the passage. 

A door shut in the distance. The house became 
quiet. It was like shutting the door of the day and 
putting it away in the cupboard of the past. 

“ To-day is gone,” I said in a mournful way. 

“ But to-morrow’s coming next,” said Margaret’s 
sleepy voice, “ and to-morrows are almost always 
interesting in a new place.” 

51 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


I lay quiet. Outside it was very still, just a jingle 
of a bell on a hansom, and the clop-clop of the 
horses’ hoofs. 

I meant to stay awake and think about a lot of 
things but I didn’t. 

School life in the big high school near Baker 
Street was a different affair to the peaceful convent 
of Wiesbaden. All sorts of girls went to this school. 
The daughters of soldiers, sailors, tinkers and 
tailors, publicans, bankers, peers, a motley mixture 
of types, samples of those to be met with later in 
life. Here snobs abounded, though their hair was 
in pig tails and their skirts just to their knees. 

“What is being smart?” Margaret asked 
mother, after a difficult day at school, where we had 
been the objects of much criticism on account of our 
not wearing collars like the other girls. 

“ It depends,” said mother, “ sometimes it means 
you are tricky and cheat people, sometimes it means 
you put your clothes on properly, It might mean you 
are pert — ” 

“ No, not that, dresses,” said Margaret. 

“ Oh, my dears, I don’t know how to explain — ” 

“ I’ll tell you,” said I, “ we are notJ* 

“Anyhow that’s what some of the girls said to 
us to-day.” 

“ They are very silly,” said mother. 

52 


LONDON AGAIN 


“ I think,” said the practical Margaret, “ it’s 
better to be dressed like the people you live with, 
or mix with, then there couldn’t be any feelings — 
Look at the nuns, they couldn’t possibly make each 
other unhappy by talking like the girls talked 
to-day.” 

“Take no notice,” advised mother, “just go 
about your work and do not let them think they have 
upset you ; it’s always annoying to find people do not 
care when you have tried to make them unhappy.” 

“ I see,” said Margaret, “ like the Christian 
martyrs. It must have been very exasperating for 
Nero when they appeared to enjoy being burnt.” 

Mother laughed. 

“You’re getting very grown up,” she said. 

“ It must be glorious to be grown up,” I sighed. 

“ It has its drawbacks,” said mother. 

“ Such as putting one’s hair up, and one’s eye- 
brows up, and one’s heels up,” suggested Margaret. 

“ Eyebrows up ! ” said mother, “ you funny 
children.” 

“ You know,” said Margaret, “ how people look 
at you through lorgnettes, very super — super — ?” 

“ Natural? ” I put in. 

“ — cilious,” said mother. 

“ Supercilious, that’s it; you see we do learn a few 
long words at that school, though it is a haughty 
place.” 


53 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Everything seemed so confusing as one grew up. 
Although they taught us to be truthful, we were 
never really supposed to be truthful enough to say 
to a person, “ I dislike you.” And though we were 
taught to be observant, I realized there were a good 
many things it was not discreet to notice. 

There was one very pretty girl at school, the 
daughter of Lord Stranmore. Everyone wanted to 
talk to her, because of that, but we wanted to talk 
to her because she had a very charming face and 
manner, and never got touchy or offended with any- 
one. Her voice was soft, and she seemed always to 
be happy and gay. We used to watch her in the dis- 
tance, when in the lunch interval we munched our 
buns and drank our glass of milk. One day she 
spoke to me. 

“Aren’t you having a glass of milk to-day?” she 
said. 

“ No,” I said regretfully, “ we can’t afford one 
every day because we are not as rich as we were.” 

She smiled a little and took my arm. 

“Well, have some every day now, my treat.” 
She nodded to the woman who stood behind the 
table. 

“You’ll see to that, Phoebe,” she said. 

“Yes, my lady,” said Phoebe. 

“ Thank you very much,” I said, “ you are very 
kind.” 


54 


LONDON AGAIN 


“ Not a bit,” said Diana, “ we’ll have another 
talk to-morrow.” 

“ I wonder whether we ought to let her give us 
glasses of milk? ” I said to Margaret when we got 
home that evening. 

“ Why not,” said Margaret, “ we are thirsty and 
poor. She is rich. Giving to the poor is ordained 
by the Scriptures, so we are really helping her to 
carry out the Commandments of God.” 

I was glad that she felt like this, and when we 
drank our milk the following morning, it was very 
pleasant to feel we were enjoying ourselves, and 
doing good at the same time. 

I had the greatest admiration for my sister’s judg- 
ment. She could cope with all sorts of situations. 
Once in Wiesbaden we gave a fifty pfennig piece to 
an old shabby man. We thought he was a beggar; 
he wasn’t. Margaret held out the money, and he 
said: 

“No thank you, little girl, I do not require 
money, I have plenty of my own.” 

Then I knew he must be a millionaire, and we had 
insulted him. I felt most embarrassed, but Mar- 
garet didn’t turn a hair. 

“ You are mistaken,” she said. “ Can you change 
this fifty pfennig piece for us? ” and so saved a very 
awkward situation. 

To my great surprise and pleasure, Diana 

55 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


iWetherby began to make friends. She loved books 
as I did, and she was very romantic. We both 
spoke French and German and thought alike on a 
good many subjects. She once saw a little sketch of 
mine, a picture of Sister Eleonora as I last saw her 
in the porch of the convent, with the doves flying 
’round her. 

“ That is beautiful,” she said, “ is it Our Lady 
with the Holy Doves ? ” 

I shook my head. 

“ No, she was a real person, a nun at the convent 
where we went to school. She looked like that 
when I saw her for the last time.” 

“ I wish I had known her.” 

“ I don’t think the picture is very like her, be- 
cause I can’t draw well enough. She told me such 
wonderful things.” I sighed. 

“What about?” asked Diana. 

“About life and how lovely the world could be if 
one lived in the right way.” 

Diana nodded. 

“ Of course it can, only we are so dependent on 
outside influences.” 

“ No,” I said emphatically, “ not always. My 
nun told me everything depends on your mind, your 
soul, whether they are brave and glorious enough, 
to live in the midst of the world, and yet remain 
untouched by it.” 


56 


LONDON AGAIN 


“ You talk very wisely,’’ said Diana. 

“ I am like a bird, picking up crumbs out of the 
road.” 

“Will you come to tea one day?” said Diana. 
“We could talk about things better than we can 
here. I should like a picture of that nun.” 

“Take this one,” I said, “I have another.” 

She took it'-and put it in a book. 

“ There’s something pathetic about it,” she said. 

Then the study bell rang and we went back to 
work. 

“ It is an interesting old name,” said mother, 
when I told her about Diana, and that I was going 
to have tea at Belgrave Square. “ The Stranmore 
pictures are well known. You are a clever girl to 
make so valuable a friend.” 

“ I think Sister Eleanora’s picture really intro- 
duced us,” I said. 

“You are fanciful,” said mother, “but this time 
your nun has been useful in a quite sensible way.” 

Diana’s house was large and very magnificent. 
The carpets were so soft, I remembered Grosvenor 
Square immediately I walked on them. We had 
tea in the library out of the most delicate china cups 
and it was wonderful to be in luxurious surround- 
ings. They often forgot the stains on the tea cloth 
at 183, and never remembered to have doilies on 
the plates. 


57 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Diana had framed the picture of Sister Eleanora 
in silver and black, and put a vase of lilies of the 
valley near it. 

“.You have almost put her in a shrine,’’ I said. 
“ I’m glad for she really introduced us — She would 
be very glad to think I had found a friend like you.” 

“ I would like to be friends, from now,” said 
Diana. 

“We only live in Apartments,” I warned her, 
“ at any moment we might live anywhere.” 

“ I don’t care where you live,” said Diana. “ I 
like your small sister, too, she seems very self- 
possessed.” 

“ I adore her,” I said. “ She is really the one 
who advises me, she always knows what she wants, 
and when she gets it, she likes it. I’m not quite 
sure what I want yet, are you? ” 

“ I know what I want,” said Diana, “ but I know I 
shall not be allowed to have it at present anyway.” 

It sounded full of adventure. 

“ You want to go on the stage,” I said with 
conviction. 

“ No,” said Diana, “ on the contrary I want to be 
like her.” 

She nodded towards the picture. 

“A nun,” I said, astonished. 

“A nun. I want it more than anything in the 
world. Perhaps you can’t understand it.” 

58 


LONDON AGAIN 


“ Oh yes, I can, I used to feel that myself, only 
now I’ve seen the world and I like its bigness. 
There’s scope — there are opportunities of being 
almost anything we would like to be, from where 
we are standing now.” 

“ You speak as though we are standing on a hill,” 
said Diana. 

“We are, the hill of youth, looking out over the 
yalley of the world.” 

“ It’s a nice idea; go on.” 

I got very interested. 

“ From this hill you can see all sorts of buildings, 
there’s the theatre, but you don’t want that. Then 
there’s a big house and garden and some children — 
that is the house of marriage — over there is a 
hospital, where you could go and nurse the sick, then 
there is the church, where you want to be — mission 
houses, offices, oh, hundreds of buildings — ” 

“ You are the strangest girl, but one cannot always 
go to the house one likes.” 

“ Why not, Diana ? I believe nothing can stop 
you if you want to get to a certain place; even ants 
do it, however often you put them back, they return 
to where they were first going.” 

“ Then why isn’t everyone doing the thing they 
want? ” 

“ Because they do not want it enough.” 

“ I wonder what you will be.” 

59 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ I haven’t quite decided, except that I would like 
to live in a house like this and meet people like 
you.” 

“ I take your idea. We are on a hill and I am 
bound for the convent; we will see if I get what I 
want.” 

“ We shall both get what we want, if we want it 
sufficiently.” 

“ I expect we are both being young,” she said, 
“ like lambs skipping on the grass. They don’t 
know why they skip, we don’t know why we are talk- 
ing like this. The thing we really do know is, Tve 
are friends and I hope we always shall be friends.” 

“ I don’t care for kissing, Diana, but I’d like to 
kiss you once, as a seal of friendship.” 

We kissed rather solemnly, and then Kate came to 
fetch me home — the first thing I noticed when I 
got back, was, that the carpets were not soft, and 
there was a stain of tea on the table cloth when v/e 
had our evening meal. 

“You are invited to tea next time with me,” I 
said to Margaret. 

“ I should like to see how a really well-ordered 
house of somebody rich is arranged,” said Mar- 
garet. “ Landladies have no ideas about neatness, 
and this house always smells of something cooking 
that never comes up to the table.” 

Mother and I laughed. 

6o 


LONDON AGAIN 


“ Perhaps it’s just as well it never does come up,” 
said mother, “ I’ve smelt it so often I don’t want 
any.” 

“ I saw a picture of Lord Stranmore in a paper,” 
said Margaret, “ I suppose you didn’t meet him?” 

“ He was away in the country,” I said, “ they 
have a place in Yorkshire.” 

“ I’d like to live in the country,” said Margaret, 
‘^the air is fresh, and you can go out without meet- 
ing crowds, and getting into- these everlasting 
streets.” 

“ I’m afraid lack of money is rather like a cage,” 
said mother, “ we’ve got to stay where we are.” 

Margaret and I went very often to Belgrave 
Square. I met Lord Stranmore shortly after my 
second visit. A tall courtly gentleman of the old 
school, scholarly, handsome, a trifle absent-minded, 
but always with a welcome for Margaret, whose 
practical ways and sedate conversation, made his 
rather grave face break into smiles. They had long 
discussions about life, and he often said she was 
much older than he was. 

“ I’m just a poor feckless youth compared with 
your sagacious sister. Miss Elizabeth,” he said to 
me. “ She makes me quite ashamed of my absent- 
mindedness.” 

“You are really very untidy,” she told him one 
day, as attired in an old tweed coat, a pair of 

6i 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


shepherd’s plaid trousers, and some much worn! 
leather slippers, he sat having tea with us. 

“Look at those slippers.” He eyed theni 
ruthfully. 

“ One ought to be neat,” said intrepid Margaret, 
nodding her smooth fair head. 

“ You are always the pink of perfection,” he 
ventured. 

“ I have so few things, I am obliged to be very 
careful of them, but I have noticed those slippers 
for a long time, and I have laid my plans.” 

Lord Stranmore pretended to look nervous. 

“ Oh dear,” he said, “ what do you want to do 
with me.” 

“ I got ten and sixpence for an old dress I sold to 
a funny woman, with yellow hair and a purple face, 
and I bought you some new ones.” 

“ Margaret,” I exclaimed. 

“ I have brought them with me.” 

She got up and went to a side table and came back 
undoing a brown paper parcel. 

“ I had a confederate. Bentley gave me one ofi 
your shoes.” 

Lord Stranmore shook his head. 

“ I don’t like taking such an expensive present,” 
he said. 

“ Nonsense,” said Margaret. “ Come put them 
on.” 


62 


LONDON AGAIN 


They were dark blue leather, and fitted very well. 
He looked up. 

You haven’t bought me a new suit I hope,” he 

said. 

Diana laughed. 

“ No,” said Margaret, “ I don’t mind your old 
suits, but you might have run something in your 
foot, the soles of the slippers were so thin.” 

It seemed to me a very good Idea of Margaret’s, 
but mother was rather annoyed. 

‘‘A man with all that money, so much older than 
you, Margaret.” 

“ He wouldn’t buy them himself.” 

“ But to have noticed them at all.” 

“You told me to be observant.” 

“ But you needn’t have told him his shoes were 
shabby.” 

“You told me to be truthful.” 

“ You are very exasperating,” said mother. 

“ Lord Stranmore was very pleased with the 
shoes,” I said, defending Margaret. “A present 
like that has never happened to him before 
probably.” 

“ I should hope not,” said mother. 

“ But it may happen to him again,” said Mar- 
garet. “ I shall keep my eye on his feet.” 

Mother went to tea sometimes with us, and it 
made us all feel we had not quite lost touch with 

63 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


the world of old days, in spite of our then shabby 
and unattractive home. Diana and I became close 
friends. She told me all her thoughts and aspira- 
tions. We did not always agree, but we sym- 
pathized with each other in our separate ideals. I 
understood that later our paths might be wide apart, 
but the golden present was ours. Like a chain of 
lustrous beads, the days went slipping by — a rosary 
of mellowed pleasures, and we had not yet reached 
any cross upon the chain. 

Unfortunately our constant visits to Diana’s 
charming home created in us a strange discontent 
with the other part of our lives — the shabby gas 
ridden house of Gloucester place could only seem 
more shabby by contrast. Margaret, too, noticed. 
We were both growing a little dissatisfied with it. 

“ It’s a dull life,” said Margaret to me one day, 
“ except the bits of it we spend with Diana. I wish 
we had happily married parents instead of unhappy 
ones. Mother is perfectly sweet, and generally 
manages to make her life pleasant, but what 
about father? I think him a very unsatisfactory 
character.” 

“ I agree with you, but ought one to criticize 
fathers at all? ” 

“ Fathers are men,” said Margaret, “ and if they 
forget where they’ve put their children and forget 
to make their children happy for months at a time, 
64 


LONDON AGAIN 


they can’t expect their children to think them as 
divine as they are supposed to.” 

“ There’s that honor thy father and the mother 
business,” I reminded her. 

“ You can honor what he represents and you can 
love him if you want to, but you need not be blind to 
his faults.” 

“ I used not to think that fathers could have 
faults, any more than mothers.” 

“ They can and ours has,” said Margaret. “And 
as that is the case, you and I must make our own 
arrangements. I intend to live my life in one or 
two places, not first in one town, then in another, 
then in one country, and then in another.” 

“ It is jerky,” I said. 

“Very unsettling,” went on Margaret. “You 
can’t make plans about people, because you go away, 
just as everything is shaping.” 

“Plans about people, how do you mean?” 

“ I mean the Stranmores.” 

“What plans?” 

“ I have made a plan about the Stranmores, and 
unless we get jerked off to Boulogne, or Dinard, or 
some cheap Swiss village, I shall be able to carry it 
out.” 

“ Is it a plan with Diana? ” 

“ No, it’s a plan about Diana’s father.” 

“ Lord Stranmore, what plan about him? ” 

65 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ He doesn’t know it, but I’ve decided to marry 
him.” 

“ But,” I said, “ he’s an old man, he’s old enough 
to be your father.” 

“ I would rather have him for a father, but as I 
couldn’t choose, I shan’t mind being married to him 
at all. I like him and I like that house. I should 
really enjoy being married to that house.” 

“ But about love and all that. It’s awful not 
marrying for love.” 

“ It’s awful marrying for love, sometimes. Look 
at father and mother. They married for love, I 
expect, and yet whenever they see each other, which 
is very seldom, he’s inclined to be crabby.” 

“ But then we agreed, Margaret, he’s very 
clever, but not a satisfactory character.” 

“ Lord Stranmore is a satisfactory character. He 
has good manners and is very kind.” 

“ Suppose he doesn’t want to marry you? ” 

“ I think I’m rather nice,” said Margaret. “ I 
don’t look at all bad with my hair up. He laughs 
sometimes at my jokes. I expect he will want to 
marry me.” 

“ I expect he will,” I said with conviction. 


CHAPTER Y 


ALL SORTS OF FRIENDS 

The more I saw of Diana, the more anxious I was 
to keep her friendship. Everyone with whom she 
came in touch, loved her. Her mind was pellucid 
as a crystal stream, her life full of good cfeeds and 
kindly thoughts — she did not boast of her religion, 
but lived it. Meditative, remote, she lived as 
though already she wore the somber veil of monas- 
ticism — She attended the services at the Oratory, 
and the other big Cathedrals of London, and I 
learned that she was to join, whenever the oppor- 
tunity offered, the convent of the Gray Sisters in a 
little village not far from the sea, in the south of 
England. 

“ ,You see I cannot leave my father, I cannot for- 
sake one duty, even though I consider another calls 
me. I shall wait for his consent, he would be so 
lonely if I left him.” 

“ He might marry,” I said timidly. I wanted to 
tell her about Margaret, but did not like to. 

“ I hope he will, that would release me.” 

Margaret and I had many adventures and one 

67 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


day we went to see a fortune teller. It cost two and 
six each to consult her, but we couldn’t resist it The 
flat where the clairvoyant lived was over a shop in 
Sloane street. It was very dark, and smelt of joss- 
sticks when we got in — joss-sticks and tea and but- 
tered toast. The black boy, dressed in red and gold, 
was very awe-inspiring, and made us feel quite 
excited. 

“ Madam is engaged, but will see you in ten 
minutes,” he said, as he showed us up into a small 
room with blue plush curtains, and Eastern tables 
with pearl bits let into them. There were two long 
couches with faded yellow and red striped silk 
covers, and several cushions of shabby gray velvet 
with gold scrolls on them — There were pots about, 
with paper flowers in them, very dusty, and on the 
mantelpiece a long row of photographs of ladies, 
signed but not in frames, also very dusty — The 
curtains were drawn close, so that very little light 
came in, and this gave the place a gloomy and de- 
pressing appearance — A cuckoo clock struck four, 
very suddenly out of a dark corner — the little 
wooden door opened with a whirr — the cuckoo 
jerked out — did four cuckoos, and clicked back 
furiously, as if greatly annoyed at having to do it 
at all. 

Margaret jumped so much, that she dropped the 
five shillings she was holding, and when the page 
68 


AI.L SORTS OF FRIENDS 


boy came in we were groveling about on the floor 
trying to find it. 

“What you doing?” he said suspiciously. 

“ Looking for two half crowns,” said Margaret. 

“ Who lost them? ” said he. 

“We did, and if we don’t find them we can’t go in 
at all and have our fortunes told, so you may as well 
help us.” 

We found one near the fireplace, and the page 
boy found the other, and looked as if he wanted to 
keep it, for he kept rubbing it on his sleeve, as if to 
get it clean. 

“ That will do, thank you,” I said. “ It’s not 
dirty and we are in a hurry.” 

He reluctantly handed it over, saying, “All right, 
come dis way please.” 

The clairvoyant was a thin dark woman, with 
very piercing blackened eyes, and a spot of pink on 
each cheek. She had on a red Turkish hat, with gold 
sequins, and a red trouser dress with imitation 
jewels all over it. She sat majestically in a throne- 
like chair, a crystal ball in her hand, and stared at 
us, as we stood in the doorway. The room was cur- 
tained in black velvet, and several joss-sticks 
smoldered in a long blue glass vase, on a little 
table — dropping the ashes, so that It was covered 
with white powder and looked very untidy. 

“ Sit down, young ladles,” said the fortune teller. 

69 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ Have you got the money? ” 

Margaret held it out. 

“Put it on that gold tray over there; I never 
touch money with my hands. It interferes with the 
influence of the spirit world.’*^ 

Margaret looked surprised. 

“Don’t you touch money at all?” she asked. 

The fortune teller looked annoyed. 

“ Of course I do, after business hours. Do you 
think I live on air? ” 

She pointed at me. 

“ Now we will commence. You are a very clever 
singer. Your voice will make your fortune, thou- 
sands will flock to hear you.” 

“But — ” said Margaret. 

“Silence,” said the lady in red. “You will rise 
to fame, you are engaged to be married to a tall 
fair man, a diplomat, very rich.” 

“ I don’t know anyone like that,” I said. 

“You will, don’t interrupt. Your mother left 
you her fine gift of music, but nothing else.” 

“ My sister doesn’t sing at all,” said Margaret 
truthfully. 

“ She will,” said the woman, quite unmoved. 

“ Beware of a dark man with a dark moustache 
and small imperial.” 

“ I don’t know one,” I said. “ I don’t know any 
of the people you’ve been talking about.” 

70 


ALL SORTS OF FRIENDS 


‘‘You will meet them soon,” she replied. 

“ I don’t think I’ll have my fortune told,” said 
Margaret. “ Can I have my two and sixpence 
back?” 

The woman looked very annoyed. 

“ Certainly not, you have wasted my valuable 
time, and I must be paid for that. My words will 
come true, you will return to me.” 

She hit a gong and the page appeared. 

“ Show the ladies out, Abdul. Good afternoon, 
ladies.” 

When we got into the street, we felt very discon- 
solate. “ Five shillings gone,” Margaret said. “ I 
wish I’d bought those hankeys we saw at Evan’s 
yesterday, instead.” 

I agreed. We had wasted our money. 

“ But the little wooden bird in the corner knew a 
thing or two,” I said. “ He said we were cuckoos 
four times.” 

We laughed all the way home about the knowing 
little cuckoo clock. 

A certain number of friends used to visit us in 
Gloucester Place, but we could not entertain any- 
body very well, for poor stout Mrs. Jones con- 
sidered it rather fast to have late dinner. 

“ I haven’t ever had late dinner in my house,” she 
said very decidedly, “ and I don’t wish to begin 

71 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


it at my time of life, and me a widow, too.” 

What the demise of the late Mr. Jones had to do 
with not getting late dinner, Margaret and I could 
never understand. 

“ Perhaps he made her swear never to have it, on 
his deathbed,” said Margaret. “ She couldn’t very 
well after that, you see, could she? ” 

There was a certain Mr. Huntley who visited us 
fairly often. He was a tall, spare, elegant man, 
whose clothes were very well cut. He had a 
cadaverous face with neat, close side whiskers, and 
an eye glass permanently in his eye, “ probably 
nailed in,” said Margaret. 

He smoked big cigars in a black ebony holder, 
and sat with his long thin legs crossed, and his hands 
lying inertly on the arms of his chair. He was very 
kind, and occasionally took mother and me to 
theatres, and I used to watch him whenever he came 
in to coffee, and try to fathom him. Types had 
always interested me tremendously. He had a quick 
dry w^ay of speaking, and always seemed to be sar- 
castic. He scarcely ever admitted that other people 
did good, and never allowed he was wrong. 

“ My dear lady,” he used to say, whenever a dis- 
cussion arose, “ women have not a proper percep- 
tion. A man of my wide experience ought to 
know.” 

He used to criticize us when we were in the room, 
72 


ALL SORTS OF FRIENDS 


and stare at us, and make comments about us, just 
as you would discuss the points of a dog or a horse. 

“ Elizabeth is shaping,” he said once, “ she has 
good hair and teeth, and a very fine complexion. 
Good hair Is very Important, believe me.” 

“ Why,” said Margaret, who didn’t like him, 
“ why more important than eyes and nose? ” 

“A woman with a wisp of hair, my good child, 
does not look well In a negligee.” 

“Well, you needn’t see her In a negligee,” said 
Margaret. 

And Mr. Huntley laughed and said “ She was 
most refreshing.” 

Margaret and I considered him a very puzzling 
person. I was now seventeen and my mother told 
me that Mr. Huntley was very well off, and had 
hinted that he would like to marry me. She said It 
was Important for me to marry where a certain 
amount of money was, because with our income, I 
could not afford to marry a poor man. 

“ Of course, only If you like Mr. Huntley.” 

“ I don’t,” I said, “ he is always arguing, and 
you know that would grow worse. If he had a wife 
to argue with.” 

“ He Is comfortably off, and could be managed 
with tact, I am sure.” 

“ I don’t think I will, thank you, mother.” 

And so ended the episode. 

73 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Sometimes a Comte and Comtesse de la Roche 
used to come to tea. He was a very stout, old 
young man with no moustache, pince nez, and very 
tight fitting clothes. He had a squeaky voice and 
rather a pawing manner. His wife was not young, 
but very well off — She was fond of noisy jewelry 
which jingled as she moved — huge brooches and 
oriental beads — her hair was dark red, with black 
and gray streaks, and her face was very red, and she 
was very fond of food. 

“ I feel sure she would be more interested in us if 
we were chicken patties,” said Margaret. 

She called the Comte “Tweetkins,” which 
seemed too small for him somehow — When they 
went out to dinner parties, they were always the 
first to arrive, and they never bothered to say who 
was at the party, but talked about the menu instead; 
the Comtesse used to tick people off thus : 

“ The Harry Pawkins — charming people, their 
souffle of peaches was a dream — such magnificent 
dinners they give. Lady Simkins — rather a nice 
woman, but doesn’t know how to cater for guests.” 

Then there was a Mrs. Benjamin Antrobus, who 
knew her peerage backwards — She could not speak 
of ordinary commoners, but only mentioned lords 
and ladies. She had once been told she was a little 
like the Grand Duchess of Sachs Badenheim, and 
always afterwards emulated that lady in her cos- 
74 


ALL SORTS OF FRIENDS 


tume — She had a beautiful carriage and pair, and 
never by any chance gave her less fortunate friends 
a lift in it — Margaret and I were walking up Bond 
street one rainy afternoon, and just as we were about 
to cross over, this lady drew up in her carriage, a 
block in the traffic preventing her progress. She 
was the only occupant, and we were very wet and 
cold. She nodded and opened the window and we 
thought she was going to invite us in, and perhaps 
drive us home, but she didn’t. 

“ Isn’t it horribly wet,” she said. “ Luckily you 
have not far to go, you girls. Give my love to your 
mother.” 

The carriage moved on, bearing her with it in 
elegant self-satisfied dryness. 

“ Still,” said Margaret to me, “ I’d rather be us.” 

These people only interested me as studies. I did 
not admire them, I had nothing in common with 
them, and they only made me more determined to 
make friends like Diana. They were entirely 
obsessed with a shabby sort of worldliness, they 
hadn’t a stirring ambition which shows character. 
They were not even failures, for they had never 
striven for anything. 

The little maid of all work was a type as well. 
She was very pretty, and always cheerful, though 
she never seemed to have any rest at all. She rushed 
in with our meals, and rushed out again, to answer 
75 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


the innumerable bells. Our landlady always seemed 
to want her, when she was at the very top of the 
house, and her voice was heard calling crossly all 
day long. 

“ Mabel — where is that creature?” 

Or, 

Can’t you hurry, there’s number four wants 
their tea.” 

As far as we could see she was always hurrying. 
Her cap was askew, her collar never quite fitted on 
to her dress, either the print one or the blackbone, 
in fact she scarcely had time to dress herself at all. 

“Why don’t you go away?” said Meg one day 
when she brought up our supper. ’Mother was out. 

“ What’s the good,” said Mabel, “ it’s the same 
everywhere as here.” 

“ But Mrs. Jones is horrid to you.” 

“ She’s an old cat,” said Mabel, folding her arms, 
“ but most mistresses are.” 

“Are they? ” said Meg. “ Lady Diana isn’t rude 
to her servants.” 

“ Oh, aristocrats,” said Mabel. “ I shouldn’t 
never get a place in that sort of house.” 

“ I don’t see why you shouldn’t,” said Meg, “ be- 
cause you are never rude; you’re always working, 
you never grumble, and you have no time to 
yourself.” 

“Ah I well,” said Mabel, “ I shouldn’t know what 

76 


AI.L SORTS OF FRIENDS 


to do with myself, if I had. Lawk, there’s Mrs. 
Sparrow’s bell, I shall catch it talking while she is 
waiting for hot water.” 

She hurried out. 

I never heard her spoken to like a human being. 
I never saw her but she was in a tearing hurry, 
bearing a dish, a can, a tray; or down on her knees 
scrubbing and cleaning — one day when she was 
laying our tea, she seemed quieter than usual. Her 
eyes looked red. 

“Are you unhappy?” I asked. 

“ No, it’s nothing,” she said, turning away. 

“ I’m sorry if anything’s made you sad, Mabel.” 

“ Don’t you bother about me. I’m all right.” 

After that day, she seemed to lose a great deal of 
her brightness, and went about more quietly, and 
her eyes were often red, as if she had been crying. 
Some months elapsed and one day she didn’t appear 
when we rang the bell. Another maid answered it, 
a sullen elderly woman. I asked Mrs. Jones where 
Mabel was. 

“ She’s gone ,” said the landlady, “ disgraceful 
creature.” 

“ Disgraceful,” I said, “ how can you say that. 
She was good tempered, worked very hard and had 
no holidays.” 

“ Good thing, too. What do the likes of her 
want with a holiday; she was only a charity girl.” 
77 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ I think holidays make people work better.” 

‘‘ Not her sort. Charity school children have got 
to work. They aren’t everyone’s money.” 

“ She did work.” 

“ It’s no good you young ladies talking. She got 
into trouble and I’ve packed her off.” 

“Well,” said Meg Indignantly, “you are a very 
unkind person to be horrid to anyone just because 
they have got some trouble. Don’t you know that 
is the very time to be nice to them? ” 

Mrs. Jones sniffed. 

“ I’m a good woman and a church goer,” she 
said, “ and I don’t intend to have people that aren’t 
respectable in my house.” 

And she sailed out. 

And Meg said, “ I’m glad we are not respectable, 
aren’t you, darling? ” 

I asked mother about Mabel, but she seemed 
vague, and I asked Kate, and she said we were not 
to bother our heads about something we did not 
understand. 

All the same it worried me a great deal. 

Then quite suddenly dad turned up at 183. We 
came back from school one day and found him sit- 
ting there. He had on very smart clothes, and a 
big cigar in the corner of his mouth. He stood on 
the hearthrug with his back to the fireplace. 

78 


ALL SORTS OF FRIENDS 


“ Hello, dad,” said Margaret. 

“Well, young ladies,” said dad. 

We kissed him, and then all stood staring at each 
other. 

I broke the silence. 

“ I hope you are quite well,” I said, “ It’s a good 
time since we saw you. Have you any money, or 
are we still poor? ” 

“ your father has made a lot of money,” said 
mother quickly, “ and we needn’t live here any 
more.” 

“ Oh dear,” said Meg, “ where are we going 
now ? ” 

“ We are staying In London,” said mother, “but 
we are to have a suite of rooms at the Hotel 
Metropole.” 

“ Oh I ” said Margaret, much relieved, “ that’s all 
right.” 

“Why, don’t you wish to leave London?” said 
dad with a quizzing look at Margaret. 

“ She doesn’t want to go abroad again,” I said, 
rushing to the rescue, “ we are tired of moving 
about.” 

“ Quite right,” said dad, puffing away at his 
cigar, “ it’s no use living abroad, when girls are 
growing up.” 

“ The girls have made some very nice friends 
here,” said mother. “ I think that is why they 
79 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


would like to remain in London, for a time at least.” 

“ Quite,” said my father, “ exactly. Now how 
soon can you be ready to move? ” 

“As soon as you like and we can get Kate to pack 
for us,” said mother. 

“ You’d better buy yourselves a few things,” said 
dad, taking a leather case out of his pocket, and 
counting out four ten pound notes, gave them to 
mother, and to each of us a sovereign. 

We kissed him quite enthusiastically. 

“ Now run away, we have lots to talk about,” he 
said. 

And much excited, we hurried up to our bedroom, 
to impart the thrilling news to Kate. 

“ Kate,” called Margaret, “ come down.” 

The sewing machine stopped and Kate hurried 
downstairs. 

“ Yes, what is it? ” she asked. 

“ Look,” said Margaret. 

And we held out our sovereigns. 

“ Where did you get them? ” 

“ Dad’s here, he gave them to us, and he’s got a 
great deal more, too.” 

“ So he’s turned up again,” said Kate, “ wonder 
where he got It from.” 

“ Nothing debenture, nothing have,” said 1. 

We always thought the quotation very appro- 
priate to dad’s case. 


8o 


ALL SORTS OF FRIENDS 


‘‘ There must be a good many fools knocking 
around,” said Kate. 

“ They shouldn’t be fools,” said Margaret. “At 
any rate, we are rich again, we may as well enjoy it 
while we can.” 

“Said dad we may as well 
Go to a smart hotel, 

Where cooking doesnT smell, 

And someone answers the bell.” 

I recited on the spur of the moment. 

“And how long, for you can never tell,” said 
Margaret. 

And we took hands and swung ’round together, 
and flopped on the bed, which clanged like a steel 
foundry. 

“ You’ll break them springs,” said Kate warn- 
ingly. 

“What are a few springs?” said Meg, “you 
don’t seem to understand we are well oif again.” 

She laughed rather sardonically. 

“ Remember, I’ve seen these spurts into aflluence 
before.” 

“ They’re very refreshing,” I said. 

The next few days were spent in packing up. 
Kate folding up the old worn garments, sniffed and 
made caustic remarks. 


8i 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ Wonder how long we shall be at the Metropole 
Hotel? ’’ she said, “ whether we shall have to do a 
moonlight flit.” 

“ The main thing is, we are not going abroad,” 
said Margaret, smoothing out her hair ribbons, and 
putting them carefully away in a black lacquer box. 

“Are you going to take these? ” said Kate, hold- 
ing up some much worn red Yiyella blouses with 
thick black stripes. 

“ No,” said I, “ we had to live those down at 
school. I don’t see why we should hamper our 
future by wearing them in a new place. [You 
wouldn’t think a piece of woolen stuff would cause 
such mental anguish.” 

“ We’re glad to be off with the old blouse before 
we’re on with the new,” said Margaret, casting them 
into a corner. 

Dad looked in after supper, on the evening before 
we left. He brought a bottle of port and some nuts 
and chocolates and we sat in a circle ’round the fire 
eating them. We had a glass of port each, which 
made us feel very gay and cheerful. We laughed a 
good deal and the future looked very rosy. The 
room got full of cigar smoke and presently Mr. 
Huntley came in and the Comte and Comtesse de la 
Roche, and they had some port, too, and became 
very much more genial than I had seen them, and 
the Comtesse’s face got very red indeed. I thought 
82 


ALL SORTS OF FRIENDS 

how different she looked to mother, who had got on 
a new dress, and was fanning herself lazily. 

“ I shan’t have to marry anyone rich now, I 
suppose,” I said. 

I felt very honest and frank, I think it was be- 
cause of the glass of port. Everyone laughed and 
Mr. Huntley said, “ You will probably be married 
for your money now.” 

And dad nodded and smiled and puffed out cigar 
smoke and said, “Extremely good I Huntley, you 
are a man of great perception.” 

And then we were sent up to bed — it seemed 
quite cool in the passage outside, after that room — 
the gas was turned down, and you could hear a tap 
hissing downstairs, and cricket chirping somewhere 
below. 

“ Wonder how we shall like the Metropole? ” I 
said, as arm in arm we climbed to the top floor. 
“ I wrote to Diana yesterday and told her our new 
address.” 

“ Did you? ” said Meg, yawning, “ she’ll be very 
surprised, I expect.” 

“ So you needn’t marry Lord Stranmore now.” 

“ I can’t change my plans, just because dad 
chooses to come back again with some money,” said 
she. “And, after all, we really don’t know how long 
this period of prosperity will last.” 

“ I hope it lasts a good while, but I don’t seem 

33 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


to mind very much. I like the idea of being off 
somewhere fresh, where it’s big and clean and lots 
of people, and life and movement. I’m looking 
forward to that.” 

‘‘ M — yes,” said Margaret. 

“ Funny stuff, wine, isn’t it? It makes you feel 
so cheerful and hopeful and as if everything is for 
the best. Even the Comtesse didn’t seem so bad 
this evening and the room looked cosier somehow.” 

“ It’s made you very chatty,” said Margaret, get- 
ting into bed. 

“ It has,” I agreed. “ I feel as if I could go on 
talking all night.” 

“ Do you think we shall have a nice bedroom at 
the Metropole?” 

‘‘ Oh, do go to sleep,” said Margaret, putting out 
the light. 

“All right,” I said, agreeable to the last. “ My 
nose does feel hot, doesn’t yours?” 

There was no answer. 


CHAPTER VI 


PROSPERITY 

Our suite of rooms looked out toward Charing 
Cross station, and over the busy thoroughfare of 
Northumberland Avenue. The bedrooms were 
beautifully lofty and we had our own bathroom 
attached. 

We arrived in time for tea, and a waiter brought 
it up on a silver tray. 

Mother sat and poured out the tea, and looked 
as if she had returned to her proper setting, and as 
we ate we admired the different surroundings, the 
lace cloth, dainty cakes, and general air of comfort 
which had been so lacking in our last home. 

“ I like all the new noises,’’ I said, “ the page boys 
downstairs calling out ‘ 503 please ’ are very attrac- 
tive, and it makes me wonder who 503 is? I hope 
they’ll call out our number one day.” 

“ I’m going to the theatre to-night with your 
father,” said mother, “ but we shall all dine down- 
stairs before. I think I’ll have a little rest before I 
dress. You might like to take a walk on the Em- 
bankment with Kate.” 


85 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


When we were ready we went downstairs. The 
hall was teeming with life. Porters carrying boxes 
in and out. Little groups of well-dressed people 
having tea In the Lounge. Prosperous looking men 
drinking whiskies and sodas and smoking big cigars. 
The lift gliding up and down full of outgoing and 
incoming visitors. Pages walking about, calling out 
those enchanting numbers. When we got out, It was 
very busy too, with the laden trains lumbering over 
the bridge, streams of traffic passing under it. We 
walked to Cleopatra’s Needle and stood looking out 
over the river. A fussy little tug towing some coal 
barges came puffing up. Some gulls flew low on the 
v/ater, the sun was going down, and sky and river 
looked very golden. In the distance the Houses of 
Parliament looked misty and ephemeral. “ London 
is beautiful,” I said. “ I didn’t know it was.” 

“ This Is nicer than Gloucester Place,” said Mar- 
garet, “ and do you know we’ve come back to where 
we were before, for there’s Whitehall Court.” 

We seemed to be going ’round In a circle. Big 
Ben boomed out six o’clock in his sonorous tones, 
and after him in a smaller voice, the Horse Guards’ 
clock chimed In, like a little boy trying to copy his 
father saying six. 

We wandered along arm in arm talking of old 
times, watching the passersby, and the sunset, and 
reluctantly turned back home. 

86 


PROSPERITY 


Dinner in the large restaurant was quite an ad- 
venture. A band played, the waiters handed us 
dish after dish, there were pretty girls, well dressed 
older people, and children, all having dinner, and 
looking as if they hadn’t a care in the world. 

“ It’s like being at a party every night,” said 
Margaret. Later, when mother and dad had gone 
to the theatre, we were just going upstairs, we heard 
a page boy calling out 183 — 183 please. 

“ It’s us,” said Margaret to me. And I beckoned 
him. 

“Miss Sutherland?” he asked. 

“ Yes,” I said. 

And he handed me a letter. It was from Diana. 

“ Isn’t It fun being a number instead of a name ? ” 
I said. 

“ Rather like a convict, perhaps,” said Margaret. 

I read my letter. 

Dearest Elizabeth: 

I am delighted at your good fortune. Is it nice at a 
hotel ? Come to tea to-morrow, both of you, and tell me 
all about it. 

Your loving 

Diana. 

“ It’s noisy, but nice,” said Margaret, munching 
buttered toast on the following day at Diana’s. 
“ Our rooms are high and spacious, and we only 

87 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


have to ring to get any sort of servant we like.” 

“ There’s a clockish thing,” I explained. “ It’s 
got hands on it, and it points — one ring for a 
waiter — two for the chambermaid, three for a 
page boy.” 

“ Three for the little boy who cries out the 
names,” misquoted Margaret. “ We rang them all 
when we got there, just to see if it worked all right.” 

“Did it?” asked Diana, amused. 

“ It did,” said Margaret. “ They were very 
cross, until Elizabeth explained to them, it was for 
the good of the hotel to have the thing in proper 
working order.” 

“ You two will never grow up,” said Diana. 

“ Only we have really,” I said. “ Look at us, 
Diana, I’m to put my hair up next week when I’m 
nineteen, and I really don’t know what I’d better do 
about myself when it is up. At least I needn’t 
marry Mr. Huntley.” 

“ Who is he ? ” asked Diana. 

“A rather rich man who wanted to marry me, 
when we were poor.” 

“ That’s only a week ago,” broke in Margaret, 
“ when we were poor. Rich one day, poor the next, 
what a life, but it’s made us very adaptable.” 

We soon grew used to the new life, and were left 
to amuse ourselves on half days and holidays. The 
girls at school were very interested in our new 
88 


PROSPERITY 


dresses and new address, and seemed to like us a 
great deal better now we had some money. Many 
who had not troubled with us tried to be friendly, 
but they were not the sort of girls we cared about. 

“ I’m sorry I’ve been a little standoffish with you, 
Elizabeth,” said one of these claimants for our 
favor. She was a little fat dark girl, beautifully 
dressed, and a grand carriage came to fetch her and 
her sister away every day after school. 

I didn’t notice you had,” I said. 

She looked rather crestfallen. 

“ Would you like me to drive you and your sister 
home one evening?” 

‘‘ Yes, I should.” 

And so It came about that we drew up to the 
Metropole one evening In their luxurious landau. 

‘‘ Will you spend the day on Sunday? ” she asked. 
“ My father and mother would be very pleased to 
see you both.” 

“ If we can,” I said. “ Good-night and thank 
you for the drive.” 

“ I don’t want to go there much,” said Margaret, 
“ only I should like to study the type, and see what 
sort of house they live in.” 

Silvia and Diamond Montebello lived In an enor- 
mous house in Park Lane. 

Mr. Montebello was on the Stock Exchange and 
very successful by the look of the house. They 
89 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


were Brazilians. Mrs. Montebello was very fat 
and very richly dressed and had lots of diamond 
rings on. There was a boy about twenty, also fat 
and very dark with a rather sulky expression, and 
there was an old lady, the grandmother, fatter than 
all the rest. 

We all sat down to luncheon and the butler looked 
much more aristocratic than his employers. They 
had an enormous meal, with all kinds of rich food, 
and there were orchids on the table, and gold orna- 
ments and vases. The father and mother did not 
talk much, and the old lady talked about the food 
the whole time. 

“ This is verra good soup, another helping 
please,” said the old grandmother. 

“ What a rich flavor this salmon has. Just a taste 
more.” 

These cutlets melt in the mouth, I must just 
have another.” 

“Ah I what a souffle, it can’t be beaten.” 

“ It had to be beaten, or it wouldn’t have been a 
souffle,” said the youth of twenty, who had not 
spoken before. 

“ Very sharp of you, my boy,” said Mr. Monte- 
bello, with a gusty laugh. 

“ What did Manuel say? ” asked the old lady. 

“ He said the souffle had to be beaten,” explained 
mamma. 


90 


PROSPERITY 


“ If it has to be eaten, I’ll have some more,” said 
the old lady. 

“ Don’t bother to explain,” said Diamond to me. 
“ She’s awfully deaf.” 

“your father in the city?” said papa to me, 
when he had finished his lunch, and was resting after 
his labors. 

“ No, I don’t think so,” I said. “He’s interested 
in railways.” 

“ Doing good business? ” he asked. 

“ I think so, because we’re much richer than we 
were.” 

“ I tell Mrs. Montebello to go and call on your 
mother.” 

“ Thank you very much,” I said. 

“ Excellent peaches,” murmured the old lady, in 
the background. “ I’m sorry I can’t eat another.” 

And as we trooped upstairs to the drawing room, 
Margaret whispered to me, “ It’s exactly like going 
to lunch with a party of tennis balls. They arc all 
so round.” 

“Seen my pictures?” said papa. “I defy any- 
one to have a better show. I wouldn’t mind having 
the interest on what I paid for them.” 

“ Lord Stranmore has fine pictures, too,” said 
Margaret. 

“ Has he though? ” said papa, “and how do you 
know? ” 

Qi 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ IVe seen them; his daughter goes to the same 
school as we do.” 

Don’t Diamond and Silvia know her? ” 

“ No, we don’t,” said Diamond. “ She’s not par- 
ticularly sociable.” 

“ She’s a darling,” said Meg, “ and very sweet to 
us. She doesn’t know many people.” 

“ Fancy not noticing our Diamond and Silvia in 
their expensive plush coats with white fox fur,” said 
Mrs. Montebello in a vexed way. “ You can’t get 
away from it, they’re the best dressed girls in the 
school.” 

“ They are, indeed,” we assured her soothingly. 

Only somehow what seemed to them a virtue, 
seemed stupid to me. Why dress so richly when you 
were only doing lessons or playing in a dusty 
courtyard. 

At last the time came to leave, and we were very 
tired and glad to go. 

“ I’m sorry we went,” said Meg on the way back. 
“ I don’t think I shall be able to eat a meal again 
to-day.” 

“ They are very good natured,” I said, “ and we 
are rather unkind to talk about them when we have 
been entertained by them. At the same time they 
make me feel quite sure that the type I like best is 
Diana.” 

I deducted from that visit that It doesn’t sound 
92 


PROSPERITY 


nice to talk about food too much, and to wear such 
expensive clothes that you cannot enjoy yourself. 

“ Montebello is one of the richest men on the 
Stock Exchange,” said dad when I talked to him 
that evening. “ I think you must allow her to call 
upon you, my dear, he might be useful.” 

“ I’m afraid we’ve put our foot in it this time,” 
said Margaret, “ tearing ’round looking for types, 
and the question arises when the dad type meets the 
Montebello type — who wins? ” 

“We may possibly move into St. James’ Palace 
soon,” I said, giggling, “ unless Mr. Montebello is 
cleverer than he’s fat.” 

And so the Montebellos called upon the 
Sutherlands. 

Mrs. Montebello brought a mammoth box of 
chocolates, and Mr. Montebello and my father had 
a cocktail. We ate the chocolates; we wished they 
had been given to us by people we liked better. 

It was plain to see, as the intimacy with the 
Montebello’s increased, that the wily old stock- 
broker and our tricky parent were stalking each 
other. 

Dinners took place. Meetings at offices took 
place. Mr. Montebello and dad sat together over 
maps, drinking cocktails and words like “ founder 
shares,” “ debentures,” “ rolling stock” and “ con- 
93 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


cession ” filled the air. Someone was going to make 
some money and someone was going to lose it. 

“ I hope we don’t have to go back to Gloucester 
Place,” said Margaret. 

Just at this time, during the stalking process, 
about the end of May, we had a delightful invita- 
tion to go up to Yorkshire and stay with Diana. 

Margaret was enchanted. 

“ Think how splendid to stay in a real country 
house, with lawns and a park, and a river of one’s 
own, and everything we read about in books.” 

Mother was very pleased for us to go and got us 
some nice clothes. 

“ The air will do you both good,” she said, “ and 
as I am having a very good time here, I shan’t miss 
you. Your father is very amiable at the moment, 
and most generous — mind you behave nicely, and 
pray tell Margaret not to be too truthful. You 
know what she is.” 

“ The Stranmores have a tremendous sense of 
humor,” I said, “ so they won’t mind a bit what she 
says.” 

Stranmore House stood on a hill overlooking a 
stretch of wooded valley, and a winding river that 
rushed over boulders and fell in small waterfalls, 
and curved and gurgled down the dale. Beyond, to 
the right in a blue haze, stretched the moors. An 
94 


PROSPERITY 


old-fashioned flower garden climbed up the hill at 
the side, and the long windows of a picture gallery 
opened out on to the Terrace. The house itself was 
long and low, with an Immense portico. The car- 
riage met us at the station, and we drove down lanes 
just fresh with the new leaves. Tea was served in 
the immense hall, where a log fire burned, for it was 
cold here In the Uplands, and after tea, Diana 
showed us our rooms, which smelt of lavender, and 
had bowls of primroses on the dressing table and 
mantelpiece. 

Down the slope of the hill on the way to the river, 
was the ancient Chapel and ruined monastery, sup- 
posed to be a thousand years old, where the silent- 
footed monks, so legend ran, walked in a long pro- 
cession on moonlit nights. 

“ The Chapel belongs to the house,’’ said Diana, 
“ and I have made It as beautiful as I could. To- 
morrow you shall see it. In the meantime, as you 
have left your beloved Kate to look after Mrs. 
Sutherland, Rose will unpack and do anything you 
want.” 

Dinner In the ancient dining room, with pictures 
of dead and gone Stranmores, the ladles with slender 
hands, like Diana’s, long swan-like throats — their 
hair decorated with a filmy lace-beribboned cap, or 
else dressed high with curls, was very Imposing. The 
servants moved quietly, the long polished refectory 
95 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


table glittered with silver and crystal. A bowl of 
violets in the center perfumed the whole room. 

Lord Stranmore sat at the head, in a huge carved 
chair, and dispensed hospitality with charming 
courtesy. We felt very much at home, in spite of 
the grand surroundings, because our hosts were so 
simple and unaffected. 

Diana packed us off to bed early, because of the 
journey. We found a fire burning in our room, and 
she came up to light us to bed, candle in hand. 

“ You live in the loveliest home in the world, 
Diana,” said Margaret, “ and you look as if you 
did. We shall dream of the ghostly monks to-night, 
I expect.” 

“ Thank you for having us, we are both so 
happy,” I said. 

“ Then the house of Stranmore has not lived in 
vain,” said Diana, and with this pretty compliment 
she went out, shading the candle with her hand, so 
that the light shone on her face, making it look very 
fair and delicate. 

“ There’s no doubt, having a company of wonder- 
ful ancestors in the background of one’s life is very 
helpful,” said Meg. 

I nodded. 

“And having a fine house, and great estates of 
your own must give an air of queenliness. Posses- 
sions, that’s what it is.” 


96 


PROSPERITY 


“ Of course ancestors are all very well, they look 
elegant enough, but it’s rather like photographs. 
The artists who painted them, made them look their 
best, and left out the blemishes. Then look what a 
lot of gout they leave you.” 

“As we don’t know much about our ancestors, we 
could be ancestors ourselves instead. Families 
have to begin somewhere, don’t they?” I said 
thoughtfully. 

“ We shouldn’t make bad ones,” said Margaret, 
who had got into her dressing gown, and was sit- 
ting on the hearthrug nursing her knees. “ You see 
we’ve had a sort of training, we know about dif- 
ferent sorts of people, and we have chosen rather 
nice ones to copy. I shouldn’t be at all surprised if 
some day we adorn the walls of a famous house and 
are pointed out to future generations, as those 
clever Sutherland sisters, famous for their wit and 
beauty.” 

“ I don’t call myself either witty or beautiful,” I 
said. 

“ Perhaps not beautiful,” said Margaret, “ but 
you’re very attractive, and you think a good deal, 
and you’re tactful, and you’ve got a way of making 
people wonder whether you’re as nice as you look. 
I suppose those ancestors will be mine some day by 
marriage.” 

I laughed. 


97 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ When do you think your plan will mature ? ” 

“:You always laugh at it,” said Margaret 
serenely. 

“ I can’t help it, Meg, because the victim seems 
quite unconscious of the fate in store for him.” 

“Does he?” said Margaret oracularly. 

“ Isn’t this a cosy room. Let’s have a chocolate ; 
there are some over there in my dressing bag.” 

I found them, and there were silent munchings for 
a few minutes. Then I jumped up. 

“ Let’s put out the candles and see what the gar- 
den looks like in the moonlight.” 

I blew them out and drew the curtain. The moon 
was rising over the distant moorland, and the ruined 
monastery looked black and mysterious down the 
hill. 

“ It looks ghostly,” I said, “ come here.” 

She came over and we stood looking over the 
shadowy landscape together. 

“ Isn’t night queer? ” I said. “ It seems soft and 
gentle and as if there couldn’t be awful things 
happening.” 

“ But there are,” said Meg gravely. 

“ The moon looks down on much more dreadful 
things than the sun.” 

“ I hope you will marry Stranmore and come 
here, Meg,” I said impulsively. “Anything to get 
away from our funny, unsettled life.” 

98 


PROSPERITY 


She patted my shoulder. 

“ I think everything will all right,” she said. 
“We have made up our minds to do great things. 
Remember we are going to be ancestors ourselves.” 

We walked down the stone steps, and through the 
gate towards the chapel, after breakfast next morn- 
ing. Diana opened the old carved wooden door 
and we went in. She had put in blue glass windows, 
and the effect was unusually beautiful. On the altar 
stood a large silver crucifix, flanked by tall candle- 
sticks, and silver vases, filled with white lilies. A 
powder blue carpet ran up the aisle and there were 
blue hassocks and cushions on the chairs. Three 
silver lamps hung from the arched roof, their 
flickering light shaded with blue glass. 

“ This to me,” said Diana, “ is the soul of Stran- 
more, enshrined in silver and blue. The color cf 
the sky and the river.” 

“ How calm it is, it seems a holy place.” 

“ That’s because it’s so old and so many prayers 
have been said here, down the ages.” 

“How do you coax your villagers?” said Mar- 
garet, “ they don’t generally like these sort of 
trappings.” 

“ I’m an old rascal,” said Diana, “ I give their 
children tea every Wednesday afternoon, after their 
singing lesson, and the little girls who have been 
99 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


good receive a tiny present. I make them walk in 
pretty processions, in white dresses and veils, which 
I also give them, and I teach them to sing the old 
hymns to the Madonna, the Litany of the Virgin, in 
English. It’s bribery.” 

“ I don’t call that bribery, unless it is bribery for 
God to say He will reward us if we are good, and 
send us to a bad place if we are not.” 

“ I think it’s a nice idea, Diana,” I said. “ The 
children have little enough pleasure in their own 
homes. I don’t see why you shouldn’t bribe them 
with pretty ribbons and pictures.” 

I knew the value of pleasant surroundings myself, 
and I realized how different it was here, to that 
stuffy house in Gloucester Place — how much more 
it inclined us to be good natured and well mannered, 
v/hen everything we touched or looked at was valu- 
able and attractive to the eye. 

We moved up to the organ. Diana opened it and 
began to play softly. I sat on one of the blue 
cushioned chairs and Margaret leaned against the 
side of the organ watching her as she played and 
sang the Litany of the Virgin. 

Star of the Morning Stella Matutina 

Gate of Ivory 

Consoler of the Afflicted Consolatrix Afflictorum 

Refuge of Sinners Refugum Peccatorum 

Mother Most Amiable Mater AmibUis 


100 


Virgin Most Pure 
Pray For Us 


PROSPERITY 


Virgo Purissima 
,Ora Pro Nobis 


The sunbeams slanted through the long windows, 
and the whole tiny edifice was bathed in an azure 
light. I could almost see the nun’s veil clouding 
Diana’s luxurious hair, and the nun’s habit clothing 
her slender body as she played. I knew that attrac- 
tive and alluring as the world might seem, with its 
glamor and dance and song, she was not of it, nor 
did she desire to be. I saw her kinship with Sister 
Eleanora and I felt a faint thrill of awe — It was as 
if the two were one, knit together by a divine chain 
of thought, which led them out of the heat and glare 
of the world Into a cool twilit pasture where they 
beheld the face of God. I knew also I should not 
walk in those pastures — I should be in the midst of 
the earth’s battle — I should go into a garden, but 
it would be a garden full of roses, and with me a 
companion — someone who would gather the roses, 
and listen to the song of the birds with me — some- 
one I loved — a man — a lover. 

The music ceased, I came back to ordinary things. 
What could have made me think like this, I had 
never thought of a man before in this wise. Mar- 
riage had been hinted to me as an enterprise, for a 
home, but this was different. This thought was 
born of a mystic exultation, almost of a religious 
lOI 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


fervor — it was born of music, in a temple of 
peace — it was a good thought, the most divine 
thought I had ever had. 

“ The King of Love my Shepherd is.” 

The sweet notes flowed from the organ, and 
whilst Diana lifted up her eyes in ecstatic contem- 
plation of a Heavenly Bridegroom — I sat there 
thinking of that other Love — the Love which 
peoples the earth — the biggest thought in the 
world — 

I found some books — love poems, histories of 
great and noble women, who had loved, and been 
loved again. They appealed to the new imaginative 
mood I was in, and as Diana let us do as we liked, 
she herself absorbed in her housekeeping, tending 
her chapel and devoting herself to the village chil- 
dren, and Lord Stranmore and Margaret off to- 
gether for long drives in the pony trap, I was left 
in an enjoyable solitude, wandering in the woods, or 
by the tumbling river, contemplating the glories of 
the earth and nature from a new standpoint. Every- 
thing looked different, more beautiful, more full of 
meaning, more full of purpose. The morning took 
on an added splendor, and the sunset a tenderer 
significance, because of the new thoughts which pos- 
sessed me since that day in the chapel — The 
Universe was somehow mine, and light illumined my 
heart. 


102 


PROSPERITY 


“You have become quite a recluse, wandering off 
by yourself,’’ said Diana. 

“ Yes,” I said. 

I felt a little reserved and shy, not so ready to 
confide as I was, even in my dear Diana, but she 
had the sweet instinct of friendship. 

“ Dear Elizabeth, are the little love fairies call- 
ing you with their soft voices? ” 

“ Diana, you are a witch, you have magic powers 
to know the hearts of people.” 

“ My witchery is only the affection I have for 
you, and I am quite observant, too. The books you 
read are love stories, and poetry, they are a sign 
post to your present thoughts.” 

“ Do you think me too romantic? It’s not a sign 
that I am not good, just because I would like some- 
one to love me like they do in books, and be eager 
to see me and think me beautiful? ” 

“ My dear, it’s the call of youth, and earthly love 
can be as fine and pure as the other. It depends on 
yourself, and whom you choose out of the world to 
love.” 

“ Everything up here makes me happy and con- 
tented. When I go back it will be different.” 

“ Why — you will not be different? ” 

I sighed. 

“ I’m afraid I shall, a little. I seem to turn the 
color of the place I stand on, like a chameleon. 

103 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Here everything is refined and full of tradition. Th^ 
house, the woods — the river — the stretching 
moorland — it’s vast — big — not shut in by bricks^ 
not disturbed by the noise of traffic. It’s a place to 
think in, and to think grandly.” 

“ I do not think you will change.” 

“ I do not want to change, but dad has such con- 
trasting ideas. There’s conflict, his code is not 
mine. I’m fond of him, he has a strong personality 
and he dominates me — us — mother — not Mar- 
garet. She just stares at him and does what she 
likes.” 

“ Then you mustn’t go back yet. Saturate your- 
self with these new thoughts and your new individ- 
uality, then nothing will matter.” 

I looked at her. 

“ Thank you, Diana. I have found my soul here 
in the Uplands.” 

A week later, a letter came from mother saying 
there was still more money, and that we were going 
tc take a house In Knightsbridge. 

The house is being furnished, and will be ready in a 
few weeks, come back soon. There is so much to talk 
over and arrange. I look forward to giving some really 
smart parties, and a coming-out dance for my pretty 
Elizabeth will be the first. Love from us both, and from 
Kate. 


104 


Your loving Mother. 


PROSPERITY 


Margaret nodded when she read the letter. 

“ The stalking is over,” she said, “ and dad has 
won.” 

“ Do you want to go back yet? ” 

“ No, I don’t,” I said. 

Lord Stranmore seemed very disappointed when 
I said we would have to go back next week. We 
were walking up and down the Terrace after din- 
ner, and he was smoking a big cigar. 

“ I shall miss your sister,” he said to me, “ I shall 
indeed miss you both, but she has made me quite 
young again. She looks after me — ” 

“ You have Diana,” I suggested. 

“ Diana is a sweet creature, a very fine character, 
but as you will probably have noticed, she is almost 
a nun.” 

“So you know?” I said, astonished. 

“ I have known for some months. I saw a letter 
lying on a chair where Diana had left it. One sen- 
tence caught my eye. It was from the Reverend 
Mother of the Gray Sisters Convent. ‘When will 
you tell your father you wish to be a nun?’ — the 
chapel — her interest in good works — her aloof- 
ness from any desire for the society of men, all these 
things make me think that she is not of this world 
and that I shall be very lonely later on.” 

“ I am so sorry,” I said. 

“ Margaret has become the companion of all my 
105 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


rambles, I cannot contemplate losing her, I cannot 
indeed.’* 

He shook his head and walked away, his hands 
behind him. 

We fixed to go back on the Saturday, it gave us 
one more week of bliss. Immediately the date was 
fixed for our departure, Stranmore began to recede, 
and I felt the new thoughts receding a little with it, 
and to picture the life we were going back to more 
vividly. 

Margaret didn’t show much feeling, but went 
about chirpy as usual, looking after Stranmore, and 
sleeping soundly every night, whilst I lay awake 
pondering on the future. On the last evening, Mar- 
garet was rather later than usual coming up to bed. 
I had already plaited my hair when she came in. 

“Where have you been?” I said. “You are 
generally in bed before me.” 

She looked at me with a funny little twinkle. 

“ Can’t you guess? ” 

I knew in a flash. 

“He has asked you to marry him?” 

“Yes.” 

“You’ve said you will?” 

“ Of course, haven’t we talked of it for ages, 
you and I? ” 

“ I never thought he would really ask you ; I 
treated it just as a sort of joke between us.” 
io6 


PROSPERITY 


“ It’s come true.” 

I went up to her. 

“ I’m not a bit glad,” I said. 

“ Why you said when you first came here, it would 
be splendid.” 

“I know I did; this house is so magnificent and 
we came out of just a hotel. I was impressed, but 
I don’t feel like that now.” 

“ But, dear, we always said if only we had a 
chance to be solid, we would take it.” 

“ I’ve changed my mind. Just being solid isn’t 
everything — there’s more — there’s love, it’s the 
best thing in the world.” 

She looked at me. 

“ How do you know? ” 

“ I don’t know, I just feel it.” 

“ What makes you feel it? Have you met some- 
one you love? Do you know a man? ” 

“ No. I felt it one day in the chapel, when Diana 
was playing the organ.” 

“ That first day we went to see the Chapel? ” 

“iYes.” 

“ That’s 'funny. Are you sure it was that day? ” 

“ Quite — quite sure. I don’t know what made 
me get so certain, so if you do not love Lord Stran- 
more, and of course you can’t, he is too old for 
you — don’t marry him.” 

“Elizabeth, dear, I am going to marry Lord 
107 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Stranmore, he has asked me because he is lonely, 
and because I am necessary to him. I shall look 
after him, and he will make me secure for life, so 
that I can look after you and mother. Dad will 
come to grief, he must — and I shall have a home 
for both of you if need be. I’m the managing sort. 
Believe me this will be quite a happy and pleasant 
marriage.” We kissed each other — a thing we 



“You’re so sensible and sure of yourself, Meg, 
I expect you will make a success of it.” 

We talked and talked, and at last put out the 
candles. I was just settling down to sleep, when 
Margaret spoke. 

“ Elizabeth. You remember the day you thought 
about love and that, in the chapel? ” 


“ Yes.” 


“ Are you quite sure it was the first day, while 
Diana was playing the organ? ” 

“ Perfectly certain, why? ” 

“Well, I’ll tell you. Because I think it rather 
interesting. While she was playing, a young man 
came into the chapel, he stood there about ten 
minutes listening, and then went. He looked an 
awful dear. Very tall and fair.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“ I don’t know. I don’t really know why I told 
you now, except, just when he was standing behind 
io8 


PROSPERITY 


you, you couldn’t see him of course, you were think- 
ing about love weren’t you? Only a coincidence, I 
suppose, but — ” 

“ What a pity I didn’t see him too,” I said 
disappointedly. 

Unlike most prospective in-laws Diana was glad 
to welcome us as members of her family. 

“ My father talked to me last night, long after 
you both had gone to bed. We had it all out about 
me, and you, Margaret. He was anxious to know 
what I thought about the difference of age.” 

“How old is your father, Diana?” 

“ Fifty, but he looks older, because he has always 
lived the life of a recluse, bent over his books. He 
adored my mother, but she died when I was about 
six years old. She was a great invalid, and he has 
spent a rather lonely life. Margaret is the one I 
am wondering about.” 

“ Margaret always knows what she wants,” I 
said. “ So I think we need not worry about her. 
It will be a great God-send for one of us to be 
settled down.” 

“ So you see,” said Diana, joyfully, “ the door is 
open for me to go.” 

“ Must you? ” I asked. 

“ I must,” she said, “ it is like a strange compell- 
ing voice, calling to me all the time, softly, per- 
109 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


eistently. I can leave everything to Meg, she will 
look after everything.” 

“ I believe she will, and be so happy and placid 
and sensible. What pleasure and security you have 
brought to us, Diana. God bless you.” 

We left by the twelve-thirty train, they saw us 
off, and the footman handed in a luncheon basket. 

“ I shall come up next week, to talk to your father 
and mother,” said Lord Stranmore; “I shall miss 
you too much to stay up here long alone.” 

“ Now don’t forget to have your meals at proper 
times,” admonished Margaret. 

I’ll write it down,” he said. 

Diana stood with her hand on her father’s arm. 
He took off his old gray felt hat and waved it to us. 
We leaned out in turn, waving until the curve hid 
them. 

“ How do you think the parent birds will receive 
our tremendous news?” 

“ Mother will call me a clever girl, and be really 
pleased and happy. Dad will probably blow up with 
pride, or else look up the Stranmore rent roll, and 
make a plan about getting some of it. I wonder 
v/hat’s in the luncheon basket? ” 

We opened it and found some chicken sandwiches, 
jam tarts, and fruit. 

“ What was that young man like, who came into 
the chapel?” I asked. 


no 


PROSPERITY 


“ Fair,’' said Meg, “ very tall, with a sort of 
browny-redness on his skin, which made his hair 
look fairer. I noticed he had a thickish neck.” 

“We shall never see him again, I suppose?” 

“You haven’t seen him at all,” said Margaret, 
laughing. 

“ No,” I admitted. “ I wonder if he’s a neighbor 
of Stranmore’s? ” 

“ If he is,” said Meg, “ I’ll ask him to dinner 
when you come and stay with us. I think I shall put 
my hair up to-morrow; you have had yours up a 
month now.” 

Kings Cross was full of the noise of incoming and 
outgoing trains, steam hissings, shouting porters and 
the rattle of cabs on the stones — a contrast to the 
sunny little station we left at mid-day. Mother met 
us in a station ’bus, she looked very smart in a new 
dust colored dress and pink straw hat. 

“ How pretty you look, mother.” 

She was very pleased. 

“You girls look well,” she said, “and oh, my 
dears, I think you’ll like the new house. We can 
give your coming out dance there, the drawing-room 
will hold two or three hundred people comfortably.” 

“ Do we know two or three hundred people ? ” 
asked Meg. 

“ You’d be surprised how many people I know 
now, dearest. Your father is such a very clever 

III 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE , 

man and has sold his railway to Mr. Montebello.” 

“ That’s it,” said Margaret, ‘T thought he would; 
hope it’s all right.” 

“ Margaret,” corrected mother, “ how can you 
speak of your father like that? Of course it’s all 
right; Mr. Montebello will make a large fortune.” 

“ I only meant,” said Margaret, “ I hope the 
Montebellos will be all right. That old lady we saw 
at lunch would die unless she had seventeen courses 
and two helpings of everything.” 

“ You see,” I explained, “ dad is what I should 
call a hopeful financier. He’s so optimistic about 
his own affairs.” 

“He has been very fortunate this time,” said 
mother. “Do you like this brooch? He bought 
it for me yesterday.” 

It was a diamond arrow stabbing the lace jabot 
she wore. 

“Very original, don’t you think?” 

“And very appropriate,” said Margaret. 

“Why?” 

“ Drawing a long bow, you know.” 

I giggled. 

“ Don’t be irreligious about money,” I said. 

“ I think you two girls are rather silly to-day,” 
said mother, eyeing us suspiciously. 

“ Now what is your news? Not that you would 
have very much buried in that Yorkshire village.” 

II2 


PROSPERITY 


“You never know,” said Meg mysteriously. 

Kate greeted us on our arrival, and was full of 
news as she unpacked. 

“ Here’s a treat, money like water, new clothes, 
a house for your mother, jewelry and goodness only 
knows what all. It’s hardly worth unpacking really, 
as we shall be going in about a week.” 

We had champagne at dinner, and dad’s face was 
beaming as he sipped the sparkling wine and held it 
up to the light. 

“ Good wine,” he said, “ life giving, exhilarating, 
the wine of feasts and rejoicings, a heiroglyphic of 
success. I drink your health, my dears.” 

“We must all drink each other’s,” said mother, 
lifting her glass. 

“ I’ll drink a toast,” said Meg suddenly. “ Here’s 
to the future Lady Stranmore.” 

I started and looked at her. 

“ He’s going to marry again then,” said mother; 
“ what’s she like? ” 

“ Nice sensible girl,” said 1. “ What she lacks 

in beauty she makes up in good-heartedness.” 

“Good family?” asks mother. 

“ No,” said Meg. 

“ Any money? ” said dad. 

“ Now and then,” said Meg. 

“ I don’t know what you mean by that,” said 
mother. “ How old is she? ” 

113 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ Very young,” said Meg, “ about my age.” 

“ Ridiculous,” said mother, “ what can her people 
mean by letting her marry that old man? ” 

“ He’s only fifty,” said Meg. 

“ What’s the girl’s name ? ” said dad. 

“ Margaret Sutherland,” said Meg. 

“lYou — you — ” dad dropped his eyeglasses. 

Mother leaned over the table, looking quite pale 
with surprise. 

“ Me,” said Meg. 

“ Oh, my dear child, you clever child, you sly 
one, oh, what a sensation, oh, what a position. I 
must ring up — everyone.” 

Dad lighted his cigar slowly. 

“ [You’re a chip of the old block, Meg. I didn’t 
know you were so enterprising.” 

“ She’s a very lucky girl, because he’s such a 
dear.” 

“ Oh, my dear,” said mother again, “ oh, I am 
so pleased.” 

“ We’ve forgotten the toast,” said dad. “ I give 
you Lord and Lady Stranmore.” 

W e all drank it solemnly. 

“Aren’t you envious, Elizabeth?” said mother, 
up in the sitting room later on, “ you’re the eldest 
you know.” 

“ Me jealous of Meg? I’m going to marry for 
love.” 


PROSPERITY 


“ You mustn’t do anything stupid,” said mother. 

“ Is it stupid to marry for love? ” 

“ Generally,” said mother, puffing at a tiny Rus- 
sian cigarette, “ all the really lovable young men 
are so poor.” 

“ Ah, well,” said dad, leaning back and putting 
his thumbs In the armholes of his waistcoat, “ you 
had better copy your wise young sister. I shall 
enjoy staying at Stranmore; I like the country, it’s 
so peaceful.” 

“ It wouldn’t be peaceful long, if you were there, 
dad,” said Margaret. 

“ Now, now,” said mother. 

Dad laughed and smoothed his chin. 

“ Let her talk,” he said easily, “ she’s a good 
girl and has done well. I wonder now what the 
Stranmore estates are worth.” 

“ Fifty thousand a year,” said Margaret, “ and I 
shall see that they remain at that. Lady Stranmore 
is not investing In railways, dad.” 

“ Of all the unjust accusations I I was only figur- 
ing your rent roll, my good impertinent child.” 

“ Well, good-night, dears,” said Margaret, “ I’m 
off to bed, it’s been a long day. Before I go I want 
to tell you a few facts. I am not marrying entirely 
for ambition. I’m doing it because I arranged to 
do it a year or two ago.” 

I nodded as they looked astonished. 

115 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ It’s true,” I said. 

“ We were very poor and wretched at 183,” said 
Margaret. “ Somebody had to arrange something. 
I’m too fond of Elizabeth, and she is too romantic 
to do things like that for herself. Our income was 
precarious. It was up to me, I had an opportunity, 
lots of people never in their lives have a chance like 
it. As you say I need not marry him now, because 
at any rate for the present, there’s money, but I 
don’t know how long that money is going to last. 
In any case I should marry Lord Stranmore ; I like 
him very much. As I told Elizabeth, ‘ I like that 
sort of well ordered life ’ — I’m not a bit poetic or 
anything — I expect I occurred in one of yours or 
mother’s very sensible moments — because I like to 
know where I am, and I like other people to know 
where I am, instead of roaming — that’s about all, 
I think, dears. I’m sorry I’ve made such a long 
speech.” 

She paused a little breathless and flushed. We all 
looked at her, father puffing away at his cigar, 
mother figuring her pearls. 

“ Good-night,” she said a little awkwardly, “ I’m 
glad you’re glad.” 

“That’s a good girl,” said dad when she had 
gone, “with good feeling and common sense. I 
'hope you’ll do as well, Elizabeth.” 

“Elizabeth will do what she can to make us 
116 


PROSPERITY 


all happy, I’m sure,” said mother very decidedly. 

“ I think I’ll go up after Meg,” I said rather 
restlessly. 

“ You two hang together,” said dad. 

“ It’s a nice relationship,” I said. “ Good-night.” 


CHAPTER VII 


IDEALS AND FACTS 

The following day Mr. Bernard Chesham came 
to luncheon. He had made friends with my father 
at the Club, and became rather a frequent visitor. 
He knew a great number of people and was a sort 
of hanger on. A great drawing room favorite, 
nephew of a rather uninteresting peer, who never 
saw him from year’s end to another, but who was re- 
ferred to very frequently by Bernard — he would not 
for the world be seen in Bond Street at the wrong 
time in the wrong clothes — he was a member of the 
Bachelor’s Club, and a friend of that elderly bache- 
lor Mr. Augustus Vernon — so well known in Lon- 
don society. This friendship alone, they both felt, 
gave each of them a sort of cachet — they did not 
particularly care for each other, but used each other 
for reference. Bernard had great ideas of enter- 
taining but was not really well enough off to do so. 
He therefore made use of those with money who 
did not know many people and took large parties 
out at their expense. If Bernard and Augustus 
Vernon were both at a party, you could be quite 
sure that the party would be the right one. They 

ii8 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


were so anxious to be everywhere, that “ mattered ” 
to the Press — they had been known to look in at 
four weddings in one day, where they looked out for 
the lion of the occasion and endeavored to be seen 
conversing with him or her for a few brief moments. 
Bernard played the piano tolerably, affected a post 
impressionist manner, and had a very ultra-artistic 
flat in Sloane Street where black walls and gold 
furniture were the predominant features. 

All these facts I learned from mother before he 
came, and when I met him, I thought he looked 
every bit of it. 

“ He has taken a fancy to me,” said mother, and 
is going to bring some of his amusing friends to 
meet me.” 

“Any ulterior motive for this society guide busi- 
ness?” asked Margaret 

“ Hush, certainly not. He likes us and wishes us 
to have a good time. He runs in and out and does 
what he likes and he gives very cheery parties.” 

“ I don’t think I shall like him,” I said. 

But I found he was very amiable and anxious to 
be pleasant, he seemed very interested in all our 
plans, and as if he had known us for years. 

“ Those sort of young men,” observed Margaret, 
“ are a little dangerous I think.” 

“ Dear me,” said mother, “ do you mean you 
would fall in love with him?” 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ No, I don’t, but he’s like a Persian cat, all soft 
[fur, with frightfully long claws hidden away 
somewhere.” 

He was very amusing in a way, and said funny 
sharp things about people, and read all the new 
books, and knew the latest gossip about everyone — 
he was enchanted at Margaret’s engagement, and 
told mother to be sure and announce it as soon as 
possible. 

“ In fact, I could run around with it myself, if 
you write it out.” 

Dad had already heard from Lord Stranmore, 
formally asking his consent to the engagement, and 
saying that he was coming up to London on Thurs- 
day, and would call upon us on his arrival. 

“ The diamonds, my dear,” said Bernard to 
mother, have you seen them?” 

“ I haven’t,” said Meg. “ I didn’t know there 
were any diamonds.” 

“ Unworldly thing,” said Bernard playfully, 
“ there are masses of them, and ropes of pearls. 
You must invite us all to stay at Stranmore. I can 
bring a jolly party and we’ll have the greatest jinks.” 

“ Will he? ” said Margaret after to me, “ I don’t 
like him, and I don’t like the word jinks, and I don’t 
like his waving hands.” 

“ I love to watch him, Meg, we’ve never met his 
sort before. He’s a curiosity. Sometimes it’s 


120 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


almost like talking to a school-girl, then again, he’s 
like a very worldly old man, and I have heard him 
talking to dad in quite a business-like way.” 

“Hm! Take a very clever person to get over 
him,” said Margaret, “ with all his skippings and 
gambolings; he has an eye to the main chance.” 

There was so much to see to, and so many fresh 
interests, that the ideal thoughts and aspirations 
born at Diana’s home seemed very far and away 
and confused. It was as if a mist had come up, and 
clouded a lovely view of stretching sun-flecked 
country. I could only see the objects near to me, 
and as they were all very material ones, no wonder 
more aesthetic cravings were obscured for a time. 

The day before we left the Metropole, we all 
dined with Bernard Chesham. When we arrived, it 
was only just beginning to grow dusk. The flat was 
very small, but full of artistic things. The hall 
rather dim, with a silver sanctuary lamp hanging in 
front of a Russian Ikon, long low divans, with every 
colored cushion. 

“ Not unlike the fortune teller’s flat, only cleaner 
and richer,” said Margaret. 

The drawing room where we went after we had 
removed our cloaks, had orange walls, black carpet 
and black satin chairs, with emerald green cushions, 
and a sort of large bed with no railings, against the 
wall in the middle, covered with an orange satin 


I2I 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


cover, and instead of cushions, a long green bolster 
thing at the top. A very pretty, thin woman with 
red hair, was sitting on this when we got in, smoking 
a scented cigarette in a jade holder. 

“And so, my dear Bernard,” she was saying, in a 
languid voice, “ we didn’t go to bed at all. Jimmy 
Birch got out his car, and we all tootled off to 
Covent Garden, in our dancing rags, and bought 
strawberries and roses and had them for breakfast 
at Queenie’s house in Curzon Street.” 

“ Just up the village,” said Bernard, “ I know. 
How I should loathe roses for breakfast.” 

“ Buffoon I ” laughed the pretty lady. 

And Bernard spied us. 

“ Oh, how do you all do? May I introduce you 
to Lady Angela Percival. Mrs. Sutherland, Mr. 
Sutherland, Elizabeth and Margaret, the lucky 
young lady who is to marry Stranmore.” 

“Old book worm Stranmore?” said Lady 
Angela, “you poor dear, but I suppose he’s quite 
devoted, and you can do as you like.” 

“ We’ll see to that,” said Bernard, “ I shall take 
up a party to cheer the lonely lady shut up in the 
haunted castle. Ah, there you are, Aubrey, and 
Mr. Vernon. Now we’re all here.” 

There entered a young man, rather like our host, 
only dark, with a tired manner and sleepy brown 
eyes, a white gardenia in his buttonhole, and behind 


122 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


him, the famous Augustus Vernon peering short- 
sightedly, conscious of the luster he added to the 
party. 

“ IVe just come from the Duchess of Wold’s re- 
ception,” he said, giving two fingers to Lady Angela, 
“ such a crush. The Prince was there, you know.” 

“ I suppose the music was wonderful,” said Lady 
Angela, “ Melba was going to sing.” 

“ I didn’t hear,” said the ancient snob, “ I was 
talking to the Prince.” 

“Very rude of you,” said Lady Angela, “and 
much more rude of the Prince, who ought to have 
known better.” 

“May I introduce Mr. Brownlow?” said our 
host, bringing up the sleepy eyed young man, who 
smiled at us wanly, and turned away. 

“ That young man must be walking in his sleep,” 
said Margaret, “ if awake he ought to have better 
manners.” 

The butler, an Italian boy, with curly dark hair 
and observant eyes, came in bearing a tray of small 
glasses, containing a bright pink liquid. 

“ This is my special cocktail,” said Bernard, 
jumping up. “Yours, Mrs. Sutherland — dear 
Angela, you, with my love — ” 

He picked the glasses off the tray, and handed 
them to each of us, as if there was something very 
special in them. Then raising his own glass he said, 
123 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“We will drink to the health of the future bride.” 

And they all clinked glasses and drank. I heard 
Lady Angela whisper in answer to a question of the 
sleepy young man, “ That girl will be Lady 
Stranmore.” 

And he immediately became unsleepy and moved 
over towards Margaret. 

“ I know your future relation,” said he, “ Diana 
Wetherby. She’s very devote, isn’t she? Going 
into a monastery or something.” 

“ She’s going to be a nun,” I joined in. 

“Then you’ll have the field,” said Mr. Brown- 
low, “ and can make hay up there, without a re- 
ligious wet blanket to stop you.” 

“ Diana is not a wet blanket,” said Margaret 
loyally, “ she’s been our friend ever since we were 
at school.” 

I could not bear this unpleasant young man to 
speak in that sneering way of our dear Diana, who 
had done so much for us. It was as if a man with 
rather dirty hands, was fingering a piece of exquisite 
white brocade. 

“ Dinner is served,” said the Italian butler. 

And we all went in. 

The table looked very artistic, round and shiny, 
with orange silk mats and table center, a golden 
bowl with wax oranges in it, and two golden pigeons 
standing each side; four gilt candlesticks shaded 
124 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


with orange made the light soft and mellow. We 
had soup out of gold china cups, and all sorts of 
beautifully cooked things after. There were very 
graceful long stemmed wine glasses with gold 
flowers on them, and lots of little gold dishes with 
cherries and violets and salted almonds and choco- 
lates. Everyone laughed and talked in a gay, flip- 
pant way, and clinked their glasses, and drank 
toasts and conversed of actresses, art, music, and 
said numbers of witty, rather spiteful things about 
other friends. 

Mr. Brownlow devoted himself to Meg. 

“ I sing,*’ he said, “ I should make an awfully 
helpful guest up at Stranmore, and I could amuse 
you after dinner with little mad, vague melodies.” 

“ We love him when he sings,” said Lady Angela. 

“ But I have to keep on singing,” said he, sipping 
his wine. 

“We’ll make you dance after dinner, Angela,” 
said Bernard, “ everyone must do something. We’ll 
have a tiny variety show just for ourselves — how 
do you like my orange efforts — rather twee aren’t 
they? I tried to get some orange blossom, but 
failed, just in honor of the bride to be.” 

“ People make rather a fuss about other people 
getting married,” said Margaret, “yet everyone 
gets married.” 

“ We don’t all marry wealthy peers,” said Lady 
125 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Angela, “ and so you see we are fussing you up, 
because we want to come and stay with you, and be 
given a good time, and make you give dances for us. 
We will teach you how to live.” 

“We’ll come and stamp our purple personalities 
on the village,” said Bernard. 

“ I daresay I can get Lord and Lady Badminton, 
and a few choice spirits to come up,” said Augustus 
Vernon patronizingly. “ Your parties will make 
quite a sensation.” 

“ If I don’t like the people, and I don’t know 
them, I expect I should make the sensation. I don’t 
know Lord and Lady Badminton, perhaps I 
shouldn’t like them ? ” 

“ Not like them? ” said Augustus Vernon. “ Do 
you know they are very, very rich?” 

“We know some rich people, too,” said Meg, 
“ and I don’t like them.” 

“ You must give some dances,” said Mr. 
Brownlow. 

“Yes?” said Margaret. 

“ Mr. Vernon loves dances,” went on Brownlow. 

Margaret turned to Augustus Vernon. 

“ Do you dance yourself still? ” she asked. 

The guests shouted with mirth. 

“ No, but he’s awfully good at sitting out,” said 
Bernard. “You try him.” 

“And he receives your guests for you and takes 
126 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


all the tiaras down to supper, which saves you no 
end of trouble,” whispered Lady Angela. 

And Mr. Vernon, not the least offended with 
Margaret for her frankness, talked to her quite 
amiably. 

Bernard made his own coffee, in a Turkish copper 
saucepan and put in orange flower water. The cups 
were delicate yellow china ones in gold stands, and 
the coffee delicious. 

“ Now for the piece de resistance. Gino, bring 
the liqueur.” 

And little crystal glasses were brought, filled with 
white liqueur with little golden flecks floating about 
in it. 

“Aren’t I clever to get such a pretty drink? ” said 
Bernard. 

“ It tastes of nothing but brilliantine, Bernard,” 
said Lady Angela. 

“ But it looks so divine,” said he, “ nobody ever 
has it.” 

“ I can quite understand that,” said Lady Angela. 
“ I don’t like it.” 

Dad got on very well with Lady Angela. I 
heard scraps of conversation. 

“ You rich men are so powerful,” said she, lifting 
her glass to him. 

And a little later. 

“Well, come and see me, I know heaps about 
127 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


business and could be very useful to you probably.” 

“ Come to my party next week,” said Augustus 
Vernon to mother; “all sorts of charming people 
are coming. Bring your girls. I like the eldest 
one. I’ll invite Lord Sandling to meet her. Bring 
her, bring her, you’ll enjoy yourselves.” 

After dinner. Lady Angela danced to us, Bernard 
played, and Mr. Brownlow sang something about 
a Fawn and a Dryad. I used to think in the woods 
at Stranmore that I heard the Dryads’ voices and 
the pipes of Fa'v^s, but to-night they did not seem 
so real. I could not Imagine anything sylvan in that 
rather worldly atmosphere. They themselves 
thought they were very aesthetic and refined, but 
they were not. They did not mean one word they 
said, and they did not really like each other very 
much. 

We did some table turning after the music, and 
it was twelve o’clock before we went to get our 
wraps. Mother was very talkative going home. 
Very much interested in life from a perfectly out- 
side point of plew, she was always ready to be 
amused at a party — she took what was offered with 
a cheerful spirit, and was rather inclined to believe 
what people told her, and certainly Inclined to like 
people if they gave her a good time. 

“ What delightful people ! Such a well-appointed 
flat. Everything ran on oiled wheels — What a 
128 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


good chef he must have. Augustus Vernon is an 
influential man, I am glad he took a fancy to you 
two girls. I believe he has very nice parties.” 

“ I don’t like him,” I said, “ he drops his h’s; I 
tripped over two or three as I came out.” 

“ Nonsense,” said mother, “ he is not very young 
any more, and doesn’t talk quite as distinctly as 
you do.” 

“ I don’t really think any of them are nice,” said 
Margaret, “ they seem to adore everyone in the 
room, and loathe all the people outside.” 

“ I wonder what they’re saying about us now,” I 
said, “ I expect they’re wondering who we are, how 
you got your money, and how useful you are likely 
to be to them.” 

“Well,” said dad, leaning back in the corner of 
the brougham, “ I’m wondering precisely the same 
about them.” 

As soon as we were settled in the new house. Lord 
Stranmore came to see dad, who, when he had gone 
out to luncheon with Margaret, told us that the 
settlements were very handsome indeed. 

“ He wishes to marry as soon as Margaret can 
be persuaded to settle the day, and I see no reason 
for delay. An alliance with his family will be very 
useful for your future.” 

“ How you work that poor dear word, dad.” 

129 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“What word?’’ 

“Useful.” 

“ Oh,” he patted my shoulder, “ you can afford 
to be a little unworldly now, my dear, you will 
probably be a catch yourself, if all I hope comes 
true.” 

Arrangements were made with Bernard’s assist- 
ance to give a house warming party and coming-out 
dance in one. Mother and Bernard were in their 
element. They sat writing out lists of people who 
would bring parties. 

“ But we shan’t know any of them,” I 
expostulated. 

“ They all want to meet you,” said Bernard. 

“ They want to meet some chicken and cham- 
pagne, much more than us,” said Margaret. 

“The true spirit of hospitality, isn’t it?” I said. 

“ Naughty ’sings,” said Bernard gaily, “ if 
mummy and I didn’t look after your interests, we 
should have you doing all sorts of quixotic things. 
Elizabeth would probably marry a soldier with two- 
pence a year and be forever hidden in obscurity.” 

“ If I fall in love with a soldier, I shall marry 
him,” I said. “ I think soldiers very romantic.” 

“ So do a lot of other people,” said Bernard 
sagely, “ until they are married to one.” 

While Lord Stranmore was taking out his be- 
130 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


loved Meg, I used to go for lonely rambles in Ken- 
sington Gardens, remote from the fashionable part 
of Hyde Park, where the grand monde discussed 
each other’s clothes and pasts and incomes. It ap- 
pealed to me. Since Peter Pan had come, there was 
a brooding spirit abroad which drew me day by day 
in high summer near the statue to watch the water 
sparkling in the sunlight. Sometimes children came 
and stood looking at the statue, discussing the carved 
creatures hidden in the pedestal. One day a charm- 
ing child walked with his nurse. A boy of eight or 
so with thoughtful eyes, and thick short curls. He 
stood looking at Peter Pan awhile. 

“ Was he ever alive? ” he asked his nurse, point- 
ing to the statue. 

‘‘ No,” said the nurse, “ it’s only a story.” 

“ I’m sorry,” said the boy regretfully, “ it’s like 
Santa Claus, I suppose?” 

“ Yes,” said the nurse, “ all nonsense.” 

She sat down and began to crochet some lace. 
The boy wandered away by himself. I got up and 
followed and spoke to him. 

“ Nurses don’t know everything,” I said softly, 
“ they don’t even believe in fairies.” 

He turned and regarded me gravely. 

“ Do you? ” said he. 

“Of course I do,” said I, “there are fairies, 
there is a Peter Pan, Santa Claus does 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


come, no matter what they may say to you.” 

“ It would be a relief,” said the child, “ it leaves 
you nothing to wonder about, when people say 
there’s no anything.” 

“ Peter Pan,” I said, “ is the spirit of childhood. 
He is always about. Everything you see, the sun- 
beams dancing on the lake, or the dew glittering on 
the grass, Peter Pan makes you think it’s diamonds. 
Haven’t you thought the dew like diamonds? ” 

“ Of course I have.” 

“ Peter Pan gets intO' your mind, and shows you 
the beautiful things of the world.” 

“ It’s a great relief,” said the little boy again, “ I 
hope I shall see you again. Who are you? ” 

“ Just a disciple of the fairies,” said I. 

‘‘We always come here on fine mornings,” he 
said eagerly, “ do come again. My name’s Michael 
Stone, what’s yours?” 

“ Elizabeth Sutherland,” I said. “ Michael is a 
nice name. He was the head of all the angels. The 
ones that come singing on Christmas night.” 

“ They do come singing then on Christmas night; 
I knew they did, but nurse said it was the choir boys 
singing in the street.” 

“ I’m not so sure.” 

“ I like you, you talk little thoughts,” said 
Michael. “ I shall look forward to next time.” 

We shook hands solemnly. I walked away, then 
132 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


looking back I saw him staring after me. He took 
off his cap and waved it. I blew a kiss. I felt 
elated and joyous. It is a fine thing to give back 
ideals, even if you only give them back to a little 
boy of eight years old. 

Why should the nurse have disturbed his 
thoughts? I tried to wash away the lovely visions 
of a little child. That quick imagination which sees 
a little face In every pansy, and hears the tinkle of 
the lily bells, which peoples the woods with elfin 
folk, and listens to the mermaids’ voices in the sea- 
shells. .Yet In a larger sense I knew that my own 
father was tearing the veil of youthful idealism from 
my-eyes, and urging me to follow the surging crowd, 
who ran after pleasure, riches and material joys. 
Had he not said to me, as the nurse said to the child, 
“ There are no Ideals, only facts, facts, facts.” 

Numbers of people called upon us or were 
brought by Bernard. Some of them were nice, 
others not at all. Invitations flowed in by every 
post, and mother accepted as many as she could, 
revelling in the life of luxury and all her pretty 
clothes. I was taken out and about. I wondered 
v/hy people seem to dislike each other when they 
speak of each other, but always herd together in 
large crowds. I met an elderly man at one of these 
parties. I was wedged In a corner and couldn’t 
move one way or the other. 

133 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“We ought to be in the fresh air,” said a voice. 

I turned and saw a tall soldierly man smiling 
down on me. 

“ We ought,” I said, “ but I can’t move.” 

“ I’ll pilot you out, when I can,” he said, “ if you 
will allow me. My sister is giving this party, so I 
think there is no harm in my giving you some tea.” 

We managed to get out of the densest part, and 
moved into the tea room, where people were thin- 
ning out, as there was music in the drawing-room. 

“ I am here for my sins,” he said, “ just once a 
year I visit my sister who is a worldling of the deep- 
est dye. I say how do you do, and am swept away 
from her for the rest of the afternoon. You are 
Miss Sutherland, and if you will honor me I should 
like to be friends. I know Stranmore, who is to 
marry your sister.” 

“ I’m very fond of him,” I said, “ any friend of 
his is a friend of mineJ* 

“ My name is Samson — General — Royal Engi- 
neers — at your service.” 

“ I’m glad you got me out of that,” I said, sipping 
iced coffee, and nodding towards the door, where we 
could see the crowd jostling each other. 

“ I had been watching you for some time.” 

“ It’s rather thrilling being watched when you 
don’t know it,” I said, smiling at him. 

134 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


“ I could see you were not enjoying yourself.” 

Rather ungrateful of me, as your sister is giv- 
ing the party.” 

“ She shouldn’t give such a large party,” said he, 
laughing. 

“ One. goes out a good bit to please parents,” I 
said. “ I don’t know why they like it so much.” 

“It’s part of the routine, I suppose?” he 
suggested, “ and personalities are sometimes 
engrossing.” 

“ That’s one of the reasons why I come,” I said, 
“ because I much prefer to walk in Kensington Gar- 
dens. I’ve got a pal there.” 

“ And so you go a-wooing by the water lilies.” 

“ If one can go wooing with a little boy of eight.” 

“ Oh,” said he, “ I know how to amuse people of 
that age. You fish for minnows in the Round 
Pond.” 

“ It’s not done in the best circles,” I remonstrated. 

“ Nevertheless will you come a-fishing, and bring 
your little friend some morning? ” 

“ I have a rendezvous to-morrow morning with 
Michael ; will you come ? ” 

“ With pleasure. This is a case where I must put 
off till to-morrow what we cannot do to-day.” 

I looked at him in a very friendly way. 

“ I’m glad I came to this party,” I said. 

I liked General Samson’s ideas, and he 

135 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


seemed to understand my point of view, too.” 

“Who was that?” asked mother as we drove 
from the house, leaving the General hat in hand in 
the door-way. 

“ Our hostess’s brother,” I said, “ General Sam- 
son. I’m going to walk with him in Kensington 
Gardens to-morrow morning.” 

“ Fine looking old man,” said mother, “ but why 
did you hide yourself all the afternoon. I wanted 
to introduce you to Mrs. Jarrette, immensely 
wealthy, and her son. He will inherit about fifteen 
thousand a year. They made their money in soap 
or something.” 

“ If she is the lady with the loud voice, I saw, I 
mean heard, talking to you, I don’t think I want to 
meet her.” 

“ She is anxious for her boy to meet you, and 
I have accepted an invitation to luncheon on 
Thursday.” 

“Have you met the boy?” 

“Yes, dear.” 

“What’s he like?” 

“Well, dear, he is like—” 

“Adonis,” I suggested. 

“ No, dear, not quite. He wears pince-nez, and 
is thin and tall, oh, quite tall.” 

“Voice anything like his mother’s?” 

“Not at all. He has a very quiet voice in- 
136 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


deed — yes — quite a soft voice if anything.’’ 

I nodded at her. 

“ In fact,” I said, “ he looks like most young men 
look who are going to have lots of money. Don’t 
worry,” as she looked a little shocked, “ I’ll go to 
lunch.” 

“ You might as well meet him,” said mother, “ we 
can walk in the Park and go on after. They have a 
magnificent house almost like a museum and a 
unique collection of curios.” 

“ I hope the curiosities will all be in the museum 
and not at the party,” I said. 

Margaret showed me the Stranmore pearl neck- 
lace that night, which he had given to her. 

“ It belonged to all the Ladies Stranmore ; isn’t 
it beautiful? ” 

“ I am glad they are yours,” I said, “ you deserve 
to have lovely things, you are always so sweet. 
.Women adore jewels, don’t they? ” 

I fingered the milky rope, admiring them. 

“ Yes,” said Meg, “ it’s supposed to be a distinc- 
tion to have them, isn’t it? ” 

“ Lots of women do almost anything to get pearls 
and diamonds.” 

“I wouldn’t do anything — odd — to get them, 
would you?” 

I looked at her. 

“ Odd,” I said. 


137 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ There are very odd things in the world, I can’t 
help thinking,” said Meg in a quiet little voice. 

“ Things you get sort of sure of, that seem im- 
possible at first. What made you first think of 
that?” 

“ Oh, I don’t know, children seem to be so mys- 
terious, and kittens being not one night, and kittens 
in the morning, and Mabel running away, do you 
remember, because of something very awful that 
had happened — and people being beastly about 
her, and I begin to think it’s the odd — something 
of the world.” 

‘‘ I believe it’s a very wonderful something, and 
I’m sure if we think about it nicely, we shall not be 
too surprised or worried.” 

“ I think you’d better ask Diana,” said Margaret. 

“ I think I will,” I said. 

Wc went down to dinner together arm in arm, 
and Meg made Lord Stranmore fasten the pearls 
’round her neck. Diana had come, and when the 
men were smoking over their port, I drew Diana on 
one side. 

“ I want to ask you something.” 

“ Yes,” said Diana. 

Meg had gone to the piano and was playing 
softly, while mother read The Taller. 

‘‘ Meg and I began to realize that there is a queer, 
and perhaps beautiful, but certainly mysterious 

138 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


something about this world that we ought to know,” 
I began. 

“Yes,” said Diana, turning her clear dark eyes 
on me. 

“ If you know how to, will you tell me? ” 

“ There is not much to tell,” said Diana simply. 
“ There is, just as you say, a something mysterious 
and often beautiful, I hope it may be beautiful for 
you.” 

“ Please explain, if you will, Diana. Both Meg 
and I hate to feel muddled.” 

She sat looking out away from me, in a big easy 
chair, leaning her head on her hand, whilst I 
perched at her feet on a cushioned stool. 

“You know, darling, what a mosaic picture is? 
You see them on the walls of a cathedral sometimes, 
they represent stories out of scripture, or the figure 
of a saint or an angel.” 

“ I know,” I said, “ a mosaic picture is made up 
of tiny pieces of colored glass and metal.” 

“Yes, that’s right, and if one of the little pieces 
of glass is missing, the picture is not complete.” 

“ Of course not,” I said. 

“ That is almost all,” said Diana gently, “ when 
people marry, they are piecing together a most 
glorious mosaic, and one cannot finish the design 
without the other. But when the design Is complete, 
the picture Is not that of a saint or of an angel, 

139 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


but instead the picture of a little child.’’ . . . 

I had arranged to meet the General near Ken- 
sington Palace, and at eleven o’clock precisely he 
was there. 

“ You didn’t forget then? ” he said, “ I have been 
feeling very nervous and wondering if you would 
forget to come.” 

“ I have been looking forward to it,” I said. 
“ Let us go and find Michael.” 

The sun shone, the sky was bright blue, an aero- 
plane high up, gleamed like a silver dragon fly. We 
walked towards Peter Pan’s statue, and I saw a 
small upright little figure standing there. I called 
out, “ Coo-ee I ” 

He came running towards us. 

“ Pve brought a friend,” I said. 

“A Peter Pan man?” said Michael. 

“ I hope so,” said the General, “ may I join the 
band?” 

“Do you believe in fairies?” asked Michael. 

“ I do.” 

“And mermaids?” 

“ Yes.” 

“And Peace and Goodwill angels?” 

“ Certainly.” 

“Then we’re all right,” said Michael; “what 
shall we do ? ” 

“ Shall we try to catch some minnows in the 
140 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


Round Pond?” suggested the General simply. 

“ Could we, oh, could we, Mrs. Pan? ” 

The General was undoing a parcel. 

“ Pve brought all the necessary implements,” he 
said. 

He put together a sort of butterfly net, and stick, 
and produced a glass jar. “ Who could refuse to 
come a-fishing?” said he. 

We invited Nannie, too, but she looked at us with 
some contempt. 

“ He’ll be all right with you. Miss ; perhaps you’d 
like to bring him back yourself at half-past twelve.” 

Much relieved we left her to her crochet, and 
walked briskly, till the Round Pond lay at our feet 
reflecting the trees and sky. A happy band of chil- 
dren, in rags and tatters, was gathered there, sailing 
ships of cork and wood with masts of match-wood. 
There they bobbed, the tiny craft, complete yachts 
and men-of-war in the imagination of their scrubby 
little proprietors — The air was full of laughter, 
high children’s voices and shuffling feet, a little 
breeze ruffled the waters — We caught six minnows, 
tiny darting streaks of silver, and became the center 
of an admiring group of yachtsmen, as we dropped 
them into the jam jar. 

“ They don’t live,” asserted a small urchin in a 
darned red jersey and brown knickers, three sizes 
too large for him. 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“Don’t they?” said Michael. 

“ No,” said the sage. “ I took up minnow fishing 
at one time — caught a lot, too — but blimey if they 
didn’t die in the night.” 

“ How sad,” said Michael, “ perhaps they 
couldn’t breathe in the small jar, so many of them.” 

The adviser laughed in a superior way. 

“ Breave,” he said, “ well upon my sammy, 
breave I They’re fishes.” 

“ Supposing I keep one,” said Michael. 

“ Keep two,” said I, “ they might be fond of each 
other.” 

“ Well I’ve told you what will ’appen if you do,” 
said our interfering friend of the brown trousers. 

“ On our own heads be it,” said the General, “ we 
accept the responsibility.” 

We were now becoming the objects of rather too 
much attention and discussion, so we left the motley 
gathering, and made our way down a leafy path, 
while the General produced from his pockets some 
chocolates. 

“ You have a knack of doing the right thing,” I 
said. 

“ I’m glad you found him,” said Michael, eating 
a large almond. 

We saw him back to his home at Lancaster Gate. 
He pointed out his house to the General. 

“ It’s a big house,” said Michael, “ for a little boy 
142 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


like me, but I don’t feel so lonely as I did before I 
knew her. I used to feel awfully old at one time.” 

I swept him up and kissed him. 

“We must meet again as soon as possible,” I said, 
as Michael disappeared through the door opened 
by a bishop-like butler. 

“ I like talking to children,” I said as we were 
walking away, “ they are so frank.” 

“ You seemed about Michael’s age when you 
were with him catching minnows.” 

“ I think an awful lot when I’m not with him,” I 
said, “ quite grown-up thoughts — rather worldly 
ones I’m afraid.” 

“ Do you? ” said the General. “ Such as — ” 

“ Oh, let me see, how untruthful, and insincere 
people are — How nice one can look if one has lots 
of money and pretty clothes — That I may perhaps 
have to marry someone rich and unpleasant because 
my father knows better than me about my own 
happiness.” 

“Does he?” said the General. 

“ He thinks he does. I have a strain of ambition 
in me. I sometimes feel I would like to .make this 
snobbish old world sit up and take notice of me, in 
a pleasant way of course.” 

“You are passing through aspiration lane,” he 
said, “ a very flowery one. The leaves hang so low, 
one cannot see the end of It. Fame might be stand- 
143 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


irig at the other end, holding a crown of laurels, but 
unfortunately, to very few is given the privilege of 
seeing her.” 

“ Don’t you think it a good thing to make a 
bouquet of the stars? ” 

He caught my meaning. 

“ Remember,” be said, “ you might get burnt if 
you go too near a star — Ambition has destroyed 
more people than it has made ; you should be think- 
ing of love at your age.” 

I have been,” I said, “ I keep on thinking and 
thinking of love, and of how beautiful it would be, 
to be loved. And then some words of dad ring in 
my ears. ‘ Elizabeth is clever, she has gifts, we 
must not let them be hidden under the bushel 
of a mediocre marriage.’ I forget the stars, and 
the voices, and remember only that we once lived in 
apartments, which smelt of gas, and I want to avoid 
poverty and mediocrity badly — so you see what a 
chaotic mind I have, and how anxious I am to go out 
with Michael, and look into his mind. Just as a 
man, who has been in a stufFy office all day long, 
longs to go, hat off, and stand on a breezy upland, 
and let the wind ruffle his hair.” 

“You make little cameo pictures when you 
speak,” he said, “ you shall talk to me as much as 
you like. I once had a history, a romance — some 
day I shall tell you of it. And now I must take you 
144 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


back to your home in a cab, youVe walked far 
enough.” 

We became great friends, he had a fund of knowl- 
edge of books, of art and of music. He knew all the 
interesting places of London — old London — 
secret London, not the center of the noisy fashion, 
but the picturesque hidden spots that no one 
dreamed of. 

I saw Turner’s London, artistic Chelsea, with its 
narrow streets and low creeper-hung houses, its 
peeping studios, and secluded churches — the long 
deserted Embankment — the old Herb Garden and 
the flagged gardens of Cheyne Walk — the misty 
bridges, slow moving barges and gorgeous sunsets. 

Then up the hill to Hampstead Heath, where 
from the Pond bank we could see the etherealized 
city at our feet — through Church Row with its neat 
balconied houses and green doors — out of which at 
any moment might have appeared a crinolined 
beauty of by-gone days, walking daintily up the 
street to meet her adoring swain, who in white 
beaver hat, and stock, colored coat and green 
trousers waited to conduct her for a promenade. 
On our way home down the hill, when the days were 
drawing in, we could almost hear the muffin man 
ringing his bell as he passed from street to street. 

Sometimes we lunched in the center of Hyde 

145 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Park, eating an omelette and fruit salad under a 
green umbrella tent. Here the General would 
smoke his pipe, and watch me with his kindly eyes, 
and listen to all I had to say in the varied moods of 
my awakening, while the sparrows chirped and flut- 
tered about us, picking up the crumbs, and the hum 
of traffic was like the distant sea. Very often Meg 
would join us, and Stranmore, and the two men 
talked of old, and reminisced of a different day 
than ours. 

“ It is strange that the two men we both like best 
at present are much older than we are,” said 
Margaret. 

The General and Stranmore walked on to- 
gether — We had been lunching under the trees and 
were now strolling over the grass towards the 
Serpentine. 

“ I’m getting rather anxious about you. The 
General is fond of you, but we can’t both marry 
people of that age, can we? ” 

“I don’t want to marry the General, Meg, I 
assure you. He is very clever, and takes great 
pleasure in my society, but I don’t feel that way. 
He’s in love with my mind, I amuse him. He had a 
love affair once, he would never look at another 
woman. She died, you know.” 

“ I see,” said Meg, “ it’s just as well for 
him. Do you know that Stranmore wants 

146 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


me to marry him next month — October — ” 

“ So soon? ” 

She put her arm through mine. 

“ It will be really better,” she said, “ for then you 
can come and stay with me.” 

Though I slipped away as often as I could, be- 
tween the parties and gaieties, and w.andered ’round 
London with my good old friend, I felt a sort of 
net closing in on me. I had met Sydney Jarrette, 
who liked me more than was pleasant, and ran about 
after me — He called most days to take mother 
and me out to lunch, and as dad was not pleased 
when I refused to go, I often went for it was easier 
to do that than have a long, tiring argument because 
I didn’t. 

“ What’s wrong with him? ” said dad. 

“ Everything,” I said, “ his short-sighted peer- 
ings, and long thiu legs, his stooping shoulders and 
narrow chest.” 

“ He’s got a very substantial banking account.” 

“ He’s got a very ephemeral brain.” 

“ He has some quite nice friends, young Lord 
Ranworth — ” 

“ He lent Ranworth two hundred, and he can’t 
pay him back at present.” 

Dad looked annoyed. 

“ You are very critical.” 

“ I don’t like his mother.” 

147 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ She is very good-natured.” 

“ She has a very loud voice, and we ate from gold 
plate when mother and I lunched there. It set my 
teeth on edge.” 

“ She meant to do you honor.” 

“ Gold plate is very squeaky — We never have it 
at Diana’s at lunch time.” 

You might be very thankful to have an oppor- 
tunity of possessing that gold plate. You could 
twist young Jarrette around your finger in company 
with some very magnificent rings. My good girl, 
when you refuse to consider such an offer, you don’t 
know what you’re talking about.” 

You know what you’re talking about,” I re- 
minded him, “ and you are now advising me well.” 

“ Ridiculous, I’m advising you to make a com- 
fortable and luxurious home for yourself, with 
horses, carriages, fine clothes, and the best wine and 
food.” 

“You always think of the body, not the mind.” 

“ You wouldn’t bother about your mind, if you 
were hungry,” said dad. 

“ My mind would work for my body and not wait 
for an ugly boring person to give it things — I think 
the mind is important — ” 

“ The brain is important,” said dad, “ for a man 
at any rate.” 

“ I think the soul is important. Your body won’t 
148 


IDEALS AND FACTS 


live for ever and you coddle it to death; your soul 
will live through eternity, and you don’t care a pin 
about it.” 

You are neurotic; make young Jarrette take you 
out, you’ll soon get to like him.” 

“ He gets on my nerves.” 

‘‘ You shouldn’t have any nerves at your age.” 

“ I didn’t know I had till he got on them.” 

He got up, flicked the ash from his cigar and went 
out of the room. 


CHAPTER VIII 


Margaret’s wedding 

Margaret’s wedding day grew near and our days 
were taken up with dressmakers and milliners, and 
our evenings with writing invitations, assisted by 
Bernard Chesham. 

“You must have thousands of people, and 
presents, and press notices — It will be the event of 
the season.” 

The week before the wedding we were to give 
our dance. 

“ Because you can invite heaps of people you’ve 
forgotten from there. Vernon will bring dozens.” 

Mother looked very pretty in the midst of all this 
excitement, and with the burden of poverty lifted 
from her shoulders, she seemed years younger; she 
designed some charming dresses for Margaret, and 
both our dance dresses. She had exquisite taste. 
When I threw my coat down in a heap on a chair 
she Immediately picked it up and reproached me. 

“Never treat your clothes roughly, Elizabeth, 
they are very valuable assets, and they are meant 
to be hung, or folded, or put away In lavender and 
tissue paper, not used as a hearthrug.” 

150 


MARGARET’S WEDDING 


The auspicious evening arrived. There were to 
be two bands, one In the ballroom, and one in the 
supper room, a wonderful supper, and if the dance 
lasted, a sort of grilled bacon meal at dawn. 

“ Which will be rather unbecoming to the Dow- 
agers,” said Bernard; “however, let us hope only 
choice and particular spirits will remain, and the 
more heavy will go early.” 

The house was a bower of roses, every corner 
a mass of them, pink, red and yellow, with festoons 
of crimson ramblers and trails of smilax. It was a 
gorgeous sight. 

“ This Is what money brings,” said dad, walking 
proudly through the rooms, just before the guests 
were expected, and when the last touches were being 
given to the supper table. “ The only soul you need 
consider to-night is sole in aspic” 

“ Yes,” I said, “very much in aspic, if It’s some- 
thing cold and covered up.” 

He eyed me critically. 

“You look very well, I like the simple white 
Greek effect, and the lilies; your mother has very 
good taste.” 

Meg came in, also in a white dress, tulle and tiny 
daisies — “ You young ladles make me feel very 
glad I made a little money.” 

We all three walked arm In arm up and down 
the ball room feeling very elated and excited. 

151 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Mother’s dress of palest maize and orchids, with 
a mauve tulle scarf, was also approved by dad. 

“ You’re more lenient with your old hubby now- 
a-days,” he said. 

“Ah, well,” said she, smiling, “when you are 
good, you’re very, yery good and when you are 
bad you are horrid. Just now I’m in my element 
for I adore pretty clothes, and entertaining people, 
even if they don’t care much for us, its gay and 
cheery.” 

The guests came in by twos and threes, and later 
in crowds. Many well known people brought 
parties, and soon the flower-decked rooms were full 
of a laughing, chattering throng. People we had 
never seen before in our lives flitted past us in smil- 
ing groups, and ate ices and drank champagne, and 
grew merry, and noisy, and seemed to be having 
the best of good times. I danced with several young 
men introduced by Bernard and Angela, and once 
I sat out with Mr. Augustus Vernon, and listened to 
his accounts of all the Peers he knew, I danced with 
Sydney Jarrette who danced extremely badly, and 
when we sat out, in one of the rose tree corners, he 
asked me to kiss him. 

“Why?” I said. 

He looked surprised. 

“ Why, because I want to.” 

“ I should often like to take a pearl necklace out 
152 


MARGARET’S WEDDING 

of a jeweler’s window instead of passing by.” 

“ That’s nothing to do with it.” 

“ It is, we can’t all do what we want, you’re want- 
ing to kiss me Is no reason why I should let you.” 

“ I’m so awfully fond of you.” 

“ I’m not fond of you.” 

“ Your people want you to be. Look here, I tell 
you I want to kiss you.” 

“ I haven’t begun kissing people yet and I 
shouldn’t care to begin with you.” 

“ I say, you’re rather rude to a fellow.” 

“ You don’t suggest to me that kissing is a bit 
nice.” 

“ It Is though.” 

“ I never have thought I should care for kissing, 
and I won’t kiss you.” 

I got up and went out Into the ballroom, to find 
my other partner. He followed sulkily, and I saw 
him standing in the doorway when I was dancing 
with the General, looking like a gloomy secretary 
bird, with a toot of hair standing up at the back 
of his head, blown up by an electric fan on the wall 
near him. 

“ It wouldn’t do, would It? ” I said to the General 
as we walked down the room. His eyes followed 
mine, and lighted on the rather ridiculous figure. 

“ It would not,” he said, “ I hope you will be 
firm.” 


153 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ If you keep me amused, and take me out, I 
shall weather the storm,’’ I said laughing, “ it’s not 
only a storm in a tea cup remember, it’s in every cup, 
and plate, and glass, at every meal.” 

“ Meals are a trap, as someone said, family meals 
at any rate,” the General remarked, “ that’s why I 
like meals in the Park, where the only trap is one for 
sunbeams.” 

“ I hope Meg will he happy,” I said. 

“ I believe her temperament is suited to the life 
he will give her. lYours would not be.” 

“ No? ” I inquired. 

“ No, no,” he said, “ you are a very exceptional 
creature, and will have an exceptional fate.” 

“ It sounds enchanting,” I said, “ you always 
stimulate me, you kind friend. You believe in me 
and sympathize with my ideals. Even when I lose 
Diana, and she will soon be absorbed by her nuns, 
I shall still have your friendship.” 

“ Some day I hope you will have the privilege of 
meeting a younger, and more romantic companion, 
and you will love as I once did. There is nothing 
in the world to equal it.” 

“ Perhaps I shall never meet anyone to love,” I 
said ruefully. 

“ You were cut out for a great romance.” 

“ Thank you, that is an armour of defence against 
the Jarrette attacks.” 


154 


MARGARET’S WEDDING 


Voices on the other side of the doorway attracted 
our attention. We couldn’t help hearing what was 
said. 

“Which is our host?” 

“ Good looking pompous chap, with an eyeglass. 
Made pots of money out of the railways.” 

“ For the Lord’s sake point him out to me. I 
feel such a rotter eating and drinking this good 
champagne provided by someone I’ve never met.” 

“ My dear fellow, you’re too jolly particular. 
Let’s go and drink his health, and that will salve 
your conscience.” 

“ There,” I said, as the voices trailed away, 
“ doesn’t that serve us right. One of those young 
men was rather nice. I’m going to trace them to 
the supper room, to have a little chat.” 

“ Would you? ” said the General, “ do you think 
you would recognize them? ” 

“ Quite easily,” I said. “ I know their voices and 
they will both be sitting together.” 

“ I’d better go and find my other partner,” said 
the General, “ I’ll just take you along, and leave 
you to frighten them to death. I daren’t think what 
you will say, because I never really know what 
you’re going to do next.” 

I laughed at him, and when we got to the supper 
room I saw two young men at a little table. 

“ There they are,” I said, “ now you can go.” 

155 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


I walked over. 

“ I hope you are enjoying yourselves,” I said. 

“Er — ” 

They both got up. 

“ Er-yes-er thanks very much.” 

I am Elizabeth Sutherland; my father and 
mother are giving the dance to-night. You know 
my father of course? ” 

“ Rather-er-yes,” said the youngest looking at his 
friend. 

“ I don’t know your father, but I would like to,” 
said the other, “ it’s very difficult for any guest in 
these days, to find his host. One gets Invited with 
a party, to go to another party, and old Mr. 
Augustus Vernon nearly always stands to receive, 
so what’s anyone to do? Won’t you join us, and 
give us the pleasure of your society please, Miss 
Sutherland? ” 

“ Thank you, very much,” I said sitting down. 

They got me chicken and ham, and quail and 
strawberries and cream and were most attentive. 
We became very friendly Indeed. 

“Your father must be a topping good sort, if 
he’s anything like you,” said the frank one. 

They told me their names. Jack Stephens Carr 
and Captain Bethune, cavalry officers, and very true 
to type, cheery, not over brainy, good sportsmen. 
We got on famously. Presently dad strolled In. 

156 


MARGARET’S WEDDING 


I beckoned him to come over to our table. 

“ Let me introduce Mr. Stephens Carr and Cap- 
tain Bethune, dad,” I said. 

They got up. 

“ Thanks for a very good supper, sir,” said young 
Bethune, “ and some of the best champagne weVe 
tasted this year.” 

“An important item,” said dad, “ makes a party 
go, don’t you think? ” 

“ Made us stay, sir,” said young Bethune. 

I got up. 

“ I’ll go with you,” I said. “Au revoir, I enjoyed 
myself very much with you both.” 

“ Handsome young men,” said dad, as we moved 
off, “ who did you say they were? ” 

“ Soldiers,” said I. “ Defenders of the Empire.” 

“I see,” said dad, “probably penniless young 
subalterns, up to their ears in debt, I daresay. 
Where is Sydney Jarrette? ” 

“ I don’t know, I have been dancing with him.” 

“ That’s right, make a fuss with him.” 

“ He asked me to kiss him when we were sitting 
out.” 

Dad smiled. 

“ Young rascal, I hope you didn’t.” 

“ Naturally I didn’t.” 

“ He’s got some spirit.” 

“ He must have had,” I said, “ and some cham- 

157 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


pagne which spurred him on, I think.” 

I was introduced by Lady Angela to a good look- 
ing man, dark, with a dark moustache. Sir Theodore 
Eldon — we danced together and I did not like his 
manner. When we sat out he was inclined to talk 
in rather an advanced way, and he sat very close 
to me, and told me some of his past history, and 
that his wife and he did not get on and he was very 
lonely and would I take pity on him and go out to 
dinner. I did not like him, and as politely as I 
could I passed him off. 

I have since met a good many people very like 
him, they talk about “ dear little women, poor little 
things,” and are very well known in India. 

The General, whose dance it was, bowed rather 
stiffly to him, as he took me away. 

“ Theodore Eldon,” he said to me, “ is not a 
very suitable friend. I should not bother about 
him if I were you. He probably asked you to dine.” 

“ Yes, he did.” 

“ Don’t. His reputation is not a good one.” 

The night wore on, and the small hours advanced. 
Most of the guests had gone. Lady Angela, Bern- 
ard Chesham, and that group still danced. Mr. 
Vernon sat whispering in a corner with a very young 
girl. The musicians began to yawn. Meg came 
to find me. 

“ I’m so sleepy,” she said. “ I really can’t sit up 
158 


MARGARET’S WEDDING 


any longer. I’m going to take one of those little 
silver trays of sweets up to bed. Good-night, dears. 
General, you look sleepy. I am glad I’m going to 
be a country bumpkin. Town life is so exhausting.’* 

She went off. 

“ Come and have a cup of hot soup. General.” 

Lady Angela, Sir Theodore Eldon, mother, dad, 
Bernard and a few others, sat round a table regaling 
themselves on grilled bacon. 

“ I’ll say good-bye,” said the General, “ I can’t 
stand that crowd, I hope to see you to-morrow.” 

He made his adieu to our parents and went off. 

Everyone was laughing loudly. 

“ Tell us another, Eldon,” said Bernard, fetching 
me a chair. 

“ Not before the child,” said Angela, “ she 
wouldn’t understand.” 

“ Wouldn’t she? ” said Sir Theodore, and told a 
rather vulgar story, which I did understand. 

“ I don’t like those sort of stories,” I said. “ I 
like something clever and witty.” 

“ Dear Miss Prim,” said Angela, “ but doesn’t 
it suit her, Theodore? ” 

“ She knows that,” said Sir Theodore, “ the 
Quaker pose is much the most becoming. She’s only 
keeping in the picture.” 

“ It’s with the greatest difficulty I’m keeping in 
the picture,” I said. “ I’m so sleepy.” 

159 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


** Let’s put up the blind,” said Bernard, “ it’s 
almost morning.” 

He got up and drew the heavy curtains. The 
golden rays of dawn streamed in. 

“ Behold ’twas dawn,” he sang. “ Five o’clock 
and a fine morning.” 

I looked out, past the dishevelled tables, and red 
shaded lights, the fading flowers. Above the oppo- 
site houses, the sky was pink and gold, and the first 
beams of sunlight which came in made the remains 
of the feast look a little tawdry. 

** We’ve missed our beauty sleep,” said Angela, 
“ but in a good cause, so what’s the odds.” 

They stayed on a little longer, and eventually de- 
parted, driving down the silent street, waving to us 
as we stood on the step — some waiters were clear- 
ing away the debris, the tired orchestra, their in- 
struments under their arms, wished us good-night 
as they passed us, looking very different in their 
shabby overcoats, to the smart reH and gold trap- 
pings of the evening. 

“A very successful dance, my dear,” said dad. 

** Oh, I’m so tired,” yawned mother, “ silly of 
Meg not to sit up. What have I got to do to- 
morrow? A lunch I believe, an afternoon party, a 
dinner and a theatre — I don’t know how I shall 
feel by the end of the week — run off to bed, Eliza- 
beth, you look so tired.” 

i6o 


MARGARET’S WEDDING 


I kissed them both and went upstairs. In my 
bedroom I drew the curtains and looked out — The 
salvage men were cleaning the road. It shone as 
the water flowed over it — a cat sat neatly on the 
step of the house opposite, and a poor old beggar 
man ambled along the pavement poking about with 
his stick. In the distance a church clock chimed 
one — two — three — four — five. . . . 

Meg and I were so tired the next day we refused 
to see anyone till tea time ; our sprightly mother went 
off to lunch before we came downstairs, so we had 
a quiet meal together, and sat in easy chairs by the 
fire. I thought it would be a good opportunity, and 
I told her in Diana’s own words the story of the 
Mosaic of Love, and then we went and made some 
butterscotch in the kitchen. At 4:30 the General 
arrived, and we three sat in the dusk while the fire 
flickered along the ceiling; it was just beginning to be 
cosy, to sit by the fire, instead of taking tea at 
Ranelagh, or in the Kensington Gardens Tea 
Enclosure. 

“ There’s a very after the ball feeling to-day, isn’t 
there?” I said. “I feel sleepy and my eyes feel 
small, and I’m glad I’m not going out, because I’m 
tired and yet I wish I was, because everything’s so 
flat after a party.” 

“ I suggest,” said the General, “ we three dine at 
161 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


a quiet place, and go to the Coliseum afterwards.” 

“ With hats on,” said Meg. “ Fm not going to 
have another evening’s hair dressing.” 

“As you like,” said the General, “ I’ll get a small 
box. Stranmore left this morning, I suppose, he 
told me he should.” 

“And will be back the day before the wedding,” 
said Meg. 

Tea was brought in and we both had a cigarette. 

“ I feel very dashing with a cigarette,” said Meg, 
“ like Carmen or Lola Montez.” 

“ Diana Wetherby was not at the dance last night, 
I notice,” observed the General. 

“ She joins the Gray Sisters next week, so she 
would not come.” 

“ It is curious why a healthy young woman with 
all life before her should want to immure herself in 
a nunnery,” said the General. “ I cannot under- 
stand it.” 

“ Neither can I,” said Meg. 

1 can. 

“ You always say that,” said Meg. “ Explain.” 

I tried to. 

“ They have such a fund of spiritual entertain- 
ment, — they are not the same as we are, these peo- 
ple with a vocation, they do not care for the things 
of this world, they love solitude — they are hermits 
-’-they hear angelic voices — they see visions, and 
162 


MARGARET'S WEDDING 


dream dreams, they do it, not because of duty, but 
because they love it better than anything else.” 

“ I once knew a monk,” said the General, 
“ splendid chap he was, very intelligent, could talk 
well on almost any subject, a real man of the world 
shut up out of the world and he once said to me, when 
we were discussing the subject we’re now on, “ I 
wanted to get away from the world in order to find 
my soul. I was too fond of the things that do not 
matter.” 

Mother came rushing in. 

“ There you are, dear General, glad to see you. 
I’m in a tearing hurry dining out at seven, and 
hardly any time to dress.” 

“ The girls are coming out to dinner with me,” 
said the General. 

“ That’s very kind of you, put on your black 
ninon, Elizabeth, and do your hair nicely. Good- 
bye — good-bye, I must fly.” 

She flurried out and we heard her calling Kate 
as she ran upstairs. 

“ When I get up out of my grave at the Last 
Trump,” said Margaret, “ my hair will be in great 
disorder, if I have any, and It will spoil mother’s 
first ecstatic glimpse Into Heaven.” 

Kate is in her element,” I said, “ and lords It 
over the other servants in the room. Do you know 
last night, she and Mrs. Ferguson, the housekeeper, 
163 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


and Baynes had roast goose for supper, and there 
was only the beak left. She told me so herself. 
She is so awfully proud of having four helpings 
of everything, and remaining thin.” 

“ It is rather an accomplishment,” said the Gen- 
eral laughing. “ Talking of food. I’ll get a table at 
the Carlton Grill If you’ll allow me to use the 
telephone.” 

With soldier’s punctuality we arrived there. The 
head waiter, a short man with a dark beard, and 
quick. Intelligent dark eyes, smiled at us. 

“Welcome, young ladles,” he said, “good-even- 
ing, mon General. I have a table in the alcove, it Is 
the cosiest place.” 

He piloted us to our corner, and bowed politely 
as he left us. He saw a great many things, that 
discreet, observant, polite head waiter. He knew 
many a family history, and looked on at many a 
romance, but he kept his own counsel, remembered 
the little weaknesses of his clients, and conveniently 
forgot their great ones; he could have written a 
volume, but limited himself to a page, the page on 
which he wrote down only the number of their table, 
and not the number of their guests, and bowing and 
smiling made everyone feel how glad he was they 
had honoured him by stepping Into the warm, com- 
fortable room to dine or lunch or sup. 

While we ate our dainty dinner, I watched the 
164 


MARGARET’S WEDDING 


diners. Round the room in twos, or more, they sat 
at intimate tables. Three men leaning back, smok- 
ing cigars, and drinking cognac, having dined and 
wined sufficiently well — a young man and an 
elderly woman — the woman looking at the young 
man, the man looking at a pretty girl sitting near 
by — a happy couple sitting, together, not so inter- 
ested in the menu, as in each other, lifting their 
glasses, drinking to Love, forgetting everyone else 
in the room — an old Jewish looking man, and a 
fair beautifully dressed woman, with lovely dia- 
monds, red lips and restless eyes roving round the 
room, anywhere away from the sight of the old 
man, who had spilt the ashes of his cigar down his 
coat and whose shirt-front bulged unbecomingly. 

“ Studying humanity,” said our host. “ I see a 
tense expression in your eye.” 

“ I was wondering what relation everyone is to 
everyone else, and how much they like each other 
or hate each other, and what makes them dine to- 
gether here, whichever they do.” 

I expect because they’re hungry,” said Meg. 

And we all laughed. 

We got to the Coliseum in time for the first turn 
— acrobats — those unfortunate people, who always 
seem to be on the stage just when everyone is arriv- 
ing, or just as they are getting into their coats at the 
end of the performance. We had a nice little box 
165 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


at the back of the stalls, and the General smoked 
his cigar. The lighted number at the corner of the 
stage changed from two to six. 

“ Isn’t it thrilling, just before the curtain goes 
up,” said Meg. “ There’s going to be a little play. 
I like little plays.” 

The lights had not gone out. I looked around 
the building, and felt my eye drawn to a box, the 
fourth from our own, the center and Royal box. I 
saw a man, a young man, fair, broad shouldered, 
with blue eyes. He was looking at me very intently, 
not rudely, but just looking, and I looked at him 
too. The curtain went up, and the lights were 
lowered, and though it was not very easy to see 
we still looked towards each other. At last I turned 
to the stage and tried to interest myself in what was 
going on. I heard the actors talking, I saw figures 
moving about, the audience laughed now and then, 
but all the time I kept wanting to look at that young 
man. And every time I did look, his head was 
turned towards me, and I saw he was looking at 
me. I could not see his eyes but I felt them on me. 

Next came Tableaux Vivants, the story of Parsi- 
fal — the music was fine and stirring, in the Grail 
scene the organ’s deep notes seemed to vibrate and 
shake the building, until It trembled. They were 
nearly over. The curtain rose for the last time. I 
turned towards the box, the man had got up and 

i66 


MARGARET'S WEDDING 


Stood looking In my direction. Two other men were 
with him, one helped him on with his coat, then 
they went, and the music stopped — it seemed to 
me the music stopped, because the man went out. 
There was a rustle and movement, and people began 
to get on their cloaks, the band struck up a march, 
and we struggled out with the crowd. 

“Just wait a minute, I’ll get a cab,” said the 
General. 

We stood together in the doorway, the people 
surging past us. Outside there was the noise of cab 
whistles and porters crying out numbers. A car- 
riage and pair came dashing up, and I saw that the 
Man was still waiting. The Commissionaire came 
up to him, and touched his hat. A tall old gentleman 
with him, said: 

“ The carriage is here, we had better go. The 
delay was unavoidable.” 

They passed quite close to us. Meg saw me 
looking at him. She clutched my arm. 

“ That’s the one,” she said. 

“ I don’t know what you mean,” I said watching 
his disappearing back, “what one?” I had never 
seen her so excited before. 

“ The one who came into the church up at Diana’s, 
you know — when she was playing the organ.” 

“Is it?” I said. “Is it? Are you quite sure? 
Tell me Meg.” 


167 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“Absolutely certain. He stared at you, how he 
stared at you I ” 

The carriage door closed with a bang. I saw 
him looking and looking through the window as they 
drove off. 

“ Come along,’’ said Meg, “ the General has got 
our cab.” 

She took my arm. I got in, and sat silently during 
the drive. 

“ Wake up. Miss Elizabeth,” said the General, 
“ you’re dreaming.” 

“ No,” I said looking at him, “ I’m not dreaming, 
I’m awake.” 

There are days in life which stand out, and are for- 
ever remembered; days of acute anguish, or days 
of extreme joy. Yesterday was one of these — a 
day of realization, a day of awkening. Just as the 
Prince awakened the sleeping Princess with a kiss, 
so had the Man last night awakened my soul, with 
the deep regard of his eyes. I knew as we drove 
back through the dark streets, he was the ideal lover 
of my reverie in the chapel at Stranmore. I knew 
that I should see him again, how or where, I could 
not picture. I would not try to find him, I wanted 
him to find me, I wanted the high Gods to take care 
that for once there should be a Romance, and so 
I left it to them. 


i68 


MARGARET’S WEDDING 


Margaret did not say much, but on the day before 
her marriage she put her arm through mine and 
squeezed it. 

“ You will meet that man again,” she said, “ I 
know you will.” 

“You think so, Meg?” 

“ Of course you will. He keeps on coming into 
your life, he cannot stay out of it.” 

She looked so young and sweet on her wedding 
day, and Stranmore so proud and gallant, that in 
spite of the difference in age, I knew they would be 
happy together. Diana in gray, a silver toque on 
her head and floating silver veil, looked like a dove. 
Hundreds of people seemed to be in the Church, 
and after at Knightsbridge, where a band was play- 
ing when we got back, the huge stairway was fes- 
tooned with white flowers and wreathed in smilax. 
Diana and I helped her to change her dress, they 
were going to Paris. She was quite calm and se- 
date, and laughed when Kate called her “ My 
Lady ” for the first time. 

“ It’s a pretty title,” she said, “ I hope I shall 
make a nice one; there’s a good deal to live up to, 
with those beautiful ancestors looking down on me, 
but I’ll try to show them they can in future look 
up to me — ” 

She told me not to be sad at her going, as she was 
determined not to grow apart from me. She said 
169 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


we should be together a great deal, and have the 
loveliest time. 

“Au revoir, darling Elizabeth, I am so glad we 
are sisters.” 

We kissed and clung together, I could not speak. 
It was as if parts of me had been torn off, I knew I 
could never love her more than I did, and I knew 
how dear her companionship had been to me, now 
that I was in a measure losing her. I saw her go 
downstairs, waving her hand blowing kisses as she 
went. I saw Stranmore waiting for her, and the 
group of bridesmaids clustering round her. I heard 
voices cheering them as they drove away, then I sat 
on my bed and cried. Kate came in, and sat on the 
bed too; I laid my head on her shoulder. “Very 
few sisters are as fond as you two,” she said wiping 
her own eyes. 

“ I adore her,” I said. 

“ Still you’ll see lots of her presently. You don’t 
know what a consolation it will be to me to have a 
Countess in the family. Did you see that old 
creature from Gloucester Place in the church? ” 

“ Not Mrs. Jones,” I said. 

“ She was there,” said Kate, “ and I took the 
opportunity of telling her a few facts. Many’s the 
dust up I’ve had with her over your meals at 183.” 

“ ‘ I hear the young lady will have a tiara, a pearl 
necklace and a castle to live in,* ” she said. “ Two 
170 


MARGARET’S WEDDING 


of all the things youVe mentioned,” I said, “ and 
was proud to say it — and carriages and horses 
and everything she wants. ‘ Fancy,’ she said, ‘ and 
they used to occupy my dining room suite.’ ” 

“ I’m glad we don’t occupy the dining room suite, 
now, Kate.” 

“ That’s what I’m telling you,” said Kate, “ so 
just dry your eyes, run downstairs and instead of 
occupying the dining-room suite, go and occupy some 
of those sweets in the dining room.” 

I laughed and went downstairs where the General 
and Diana consoled me, and we drank Meg’s health 
in a glass of champagne. . . . 

I missed Margaret more every day, the General 
did his best to cheer me, but I could not forget her. 
There was no one to talk to over the nightly hair 
brushing, and I appreciated more and more the 
charming relationship I had so long enjoyed. She 
wrote to me every day, long, long letters, telling me 
of her happiness, and of the great kindness of her 
husband. 

He is too good ; I dare not say I like anything, in case 
he buys it for me. I shudder to think how the historical 
landmarks of Paris would look if I suddenly took a fancy 
to the Arc de Triomphe or Notre Dame. I have not yet 
got used to things being very expensive and yet able to 
be possessed at any moment. I love Paris, it is so gay. 
Everyone seems to be there on pleasure, and it is the way 
of French people to appear gay, and to smile, which 
171 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


makes life appear much more attractive. We have some 
people coming for the shooting and you are to come, too. 
(Not people like Bernard Chesham and Augustus 
Vernon.) 

Give my love to the General, how I miss you, and 
long to see you. 


CHAPTER IX 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 

Mrs. Jarrette called one afternoon. Everyone 
was out except me. She came in enveloped in red 
velvet, trimmed with silver, with a cloak to match 
lined with ermine, very much like a coronation robe. 
I put down my book as she advanced on me and 
kissed me, and then sat down heavily in an arm- 
chair. 

“ Oh, dear me,” she puffed, “ I don’t suppose I 
shall ever be able to get out of this low chair.” 

I devotedly hoped she would. 

“ I will help you when the time comes,” I said. 

There was a silence so long, and embarrassing, 
that I thought I’d better break it. 

“ Very wintry, isn’t it? ” I said, looking out over 
the trees from which the leaves dropped slowly and 
regretfully. 

Instead of answering my question, she said: 

“Aren’t you a naughty girl to make my poor boy 
so unhappy.” 

I was rather nonplussed. 

“ I’m very sorry,” I said lamely, “ I don’t like 
being unkind to anyone.” 

173 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ He’s such a sweet character, and so attached 
to you, I don’t think you ought to snub him.” 

“ I don’t think I ought to lead him on.” 

“ Don’t you want to marry anyone? ” 

I don’t very much.” 

“You make a mistake, girls are silly, they don’t 
count without a husband.” 

“ Sometimes they don’t count with one.” 

“ My boy would give you all sorts of nice 
presents. You’d have a lot of money to spend on 
yourself.” 

“ I’m sorry,” I repeated, “ you are very good to 
offer me so much, but I don’t want to marry Syd- 
ney.” 

“You shouldn’t have encouraged him then,” she 
said rather rudely. 

“ I didn’t know I had.” 

“ You have then, going out to luncheons and din- 
ners, and your mother, too, and letting him call here, 
and dance attendance on you. Well, I’ll say good 
afternoon, and I intend to see that he doesn’t waste 
any more time.” 

I felt she wanted to say money. 

She struggled to get up out of the chair, but 
couldn’t. I sprang forward. 

“ Let me help you, Mrs. Jarrette.” 

“ No, thank you. I’ll get up myself.” 

She made a supreme effort, but sank back again, 

174 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 

exhausted, and eventually had to accept my proffered 
hand. She didn’t smile once; even in the midst of 
her futile strugglings, to extricate herself, she pre- 
served a sulky expression, and I thought how dull 
it was of her to be so lacking in a sense of humor. 

“ Good-bye,” I said as I rang the bell, “ I am so 
sorry to have hurt you.” 

‘‘You will be sorry and regret having thrown 
away such a wonderful chance as my boy. You 
don’t come of such an important family, you know, 
that you need give yourself all those airs.” 

“ I know,” I said, “ but then I’m very healthy, 
and nicely shaped, and fairly brainy, so that not 
having many ancestors doesn’t matter very much, 
does it? ” 

“ I don’t quite understand what you’re talking 
about, but I will wish you good afternoon.” 

She sailed out, her ermine and red velvet trailing 
over the carpet like a garment of state. Dad was 
annoyed when I told him of the interview, and much 
exercised in mind whether he should telephone to 
Mrs. Jarrette and apologize for my rudeness. 

“ But I wasn’t rude,” I said, “ you couldn’t call it 
rude not to want to marry Sydney Jarrette. On the 
contrary, she was rather rude to me, for she said 
I was a person of no importance and I agreed 
with her.” 

“ Did she? ” he frowned. 

175 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ I don’t think I am a person of Importance. 
She was only being consistent. I should have been 
very surprised if she had behaved differently.” 

“ It’s a pity to ignore fifteen thousand a year.” 

“ It’s an awful way to earn it,” I said. “ I’d 
rather be a cook.” 

“ Youth,” said my father, “ is headstrong and 
foolish. Has no judgment, and above all places 
value on the wrong things. The only Important 
thing In life is money.” 

While Meg was away I went to some rather 
amusing parties at Lady Angela’s. She was a very 
interesting character in her own way. She had a 
charming house, a number of very smartly dressed 
women friends, and they entertained each other, 
and there was great competition amongst them. 
She delighted in giving what she called, a “ white 
luncheon ” or a “ pink luncheon,” where all the 
food, from soup to ice, was of one particular colour, 
and I found her in great trouble one day, because 
she could not give a purple luncheon unless It Is 
composed entirely of grapes and aubergines. She 
was always passing through phases, and one never 
knew whether one was going to have a Lord 
Mayor’s banquet, or the meal of a fairy queen, all 
crystallized rose leaves and violets, with honey and 
water as a beverage. She dressed in rather an out- 
landish way, and spent a great deal of time design- 
176 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


ing her clothes, which might have been left alone. 

I went to tea one day : She telephoned to-day she 
had a surprise — I was lonely without Meg, so I 
went. When I arrived, I thought I had come to the 
wrong house, for there was a deep red carpet, deep 
red walls, and a smell of Incense, yet the same 
butler opened the door. 

“What has happened?” I said. 

He shook his head and said in a resigned voice, 
“ Her ladyship has had the house done up.” 

She ran downstairs to greet me. 

“ Darling Elizabeth,” she said, “ come up. How 
do you like these new effects. Isn’t It wonderful, 
so warming.” 

“ Rather exhausting, I think,” I said. 

“It’s the only color, I have been told; I must 
surround myself with red. In order to attain repose 
of mind, and perfect health. Come In here.” 

We had arrived at the drawing room door which 
she pushed open, and I groped my way In. 

“ Do you know Madame YamsakI, and Madame 
Banzoullsh?” 

I bowed to some dim' people sitting on stools In 
the half light, and presently the resigned butler 
brought In curious Eastern sweetmeats, and chutnies, 
which he handed to the guests. Then It all came 
out. She had met a wonderful man, an Oriental, 
who lectured on the “ Higher Color Dominion ” 
177 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


and who had as his password, the sentence, “ Red is 
the Only color, the True color, the Color of Life.” 

My eyes smarted very much, and I thought I 
would go, just as Prince Pasha, Puani Sanscrit, 
was announced. He looked very much like one of 
the gentlemen in the cigarette kiosk at Earls’ Court. 
They all got up, and made a sort of curtsey tO' him 
and called him “ Master,” and I was allowed to 
recede which I did as quickly as possible. 

It seemed to me that Lady Angela wasted a tre- 
mendous lot of energy on perfectly stupid things. 
She was always running after new sensations, and 
never happy unless she was redecorating her 
house. . . . 

Autumn was far advanced. Little mists lay over 
the Park, and the trees were almost bare. I walked 
with the General amongst the dead leaves. 

“Another year is passing,” said he; “they seem 
to hurry at my age.” 

“ I don’t think anybody has much time,” I said. 
“ What is a lifetime really? ” 

He smiled down at me. “ My dear, yours is be- 
fore you.” 

“ I have lived in so many different places, and 
in such very different circumstances, I feel as if I 
am quite old.” 

“ Wait till you fall In love, then all the trees will 
be green, dear, and all the birds will sing.” 

“ I do not want to sing now. Autumn makes me 
178 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


sad. ’Tis like the death of a beautiful young 
woman.” 

“ I know what’s the matter with you, you’re miss- 
ing Meg.” 

“ I am.” 

“ You’ll see her soon.” 

“ I know, they want me to go up there next 
month.” 

“ Then it will be my turn to be sad,” said the 
General. “ But to-day let’s consider ‘ our marcis,’ 
it’s a fine afternoon, you’re looking extremely pretty, 
you’re going back to tea with Michael, and Meg 
will be back in a few days.” 

I looked up at him and laughed. “ My flock 
of thoughts was wandering, and you have set the 
sheep-dog of commonsense to gather them together 
again.” 

When we arrived at Lancaster Gate, I had re- 
covered my spirits. 

Mrs. Stone, Michael’s mother, was a handsome, 
rather stout woman about fifty, very self-centered 
and full of imaginary ailments. She received us with 
a plaintive smile. 

‘‘ I’m really not fit to be up,” she said, “ I feel so 
languid and queer. I was up very late last night 
at a party, and have only touched the merest bite 
of chicken for luncheon, with a tiny sip of cham- 
179 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


pagne, so perhaps you had better go up to the school- 
room, you will find Michael there.” 

“ How is Michael? ” I said. 

“ Oh, he’s very well, clumping about and riding 
a rocking horse. How restless children are, they 
weary me with their constant moving about. I’m 
afraid I shall not be able to have tea with you, I 
have to dine out to-night, I must rest. You know 
your way. Isn’t it a pity I’m such a martyr to 
health.” 

“ It Is Indeed,” said the General. 

“Perhaps we shall see you before we go?” I 
said. 

“ I’m afraid not. I ought not to be disturbed. 
So good of you to trouble about Michael, he’s a very 
tiresome child, I always think. Good-bye.” 

“ Poor Michael,” said the General, “ a tmaginaire 
malade for a mother, and a nurse who tells him 
there are no fairies and no Santa Claus.” 

“ Isn’t it lucky I met him,” I said as we went 
upstairs. 

“ It’s lucky we both met you, I think,” said the 
General. 

Michael received us at the door with open arms. 

“ I was just wondering if you had forgotten to 
come. I was getting so anxious. There’s such a 
nice tea, and I got sugar and butter, and condensed 
milk so that Mrs. Pan could make some toffee.” 
i8o 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


We did justice to the tea and cakes, and after- 
wards made toffee; Michael kept trying it, to see 
if it was hard enough, in a basin of water, and eat- 
ing all the bits that were still too sticky. At last it 
was done and poured on to a greasy tin where we 
left it to get cold. Then I was ordered to read to 
them; I read the story of a divinely beautiful 
Princess and a cruel Ogre and a handsome Prince 
who galloped to the rescue on a milk white steed. 
Somewhere in the story a rhyme occurred about the 
ill-treated Princess. 

If your mother only knew, 

Her heart would surely break in two. 

“ That means,” said Michael thoughtfully, “ her 
mother’s heart would break, if she knew she was un- 
happy and lonely.” 

“ Yes, dear.” 

“ Do you think mothers care if their children are 
lonely?” 

“ Of course they do, Michael.” 

“ Mine doesn’t.” 

The General looked at me and sighed. 

I think I shall have to adopt you, Michael,” 
he said. 

‘‘ What does adopt mean? ” 

“ It means if you have no little boys and girls 
of your own, you look after somebody else’s.” 
i8i 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ Do adopt me.” 

“ I’m afraid your mother wouldn’t let me? ” 

“Yes, she would,” said Michael, “she doesn’t 
like me at all, and you do like me, and we should all 
be happy.” 

“ Perhaps I’d better ask her,” said the General. 

“ Oh, do ask her.” 

“At any rate, you might come and stay with me 
for a little while, when your mother goes away. I 
have a very nice housekeeper who would look after 
you.” 

“Nicer than nurse? She’s awfully boring. She 
doesn’t like anything pretty, or fun, or games, or 
anything. I should be a lucky boy if I could come 
and stay with you.” 

Nanny came in to say it was time for Michael 
to put away his toys. 

“ Good-bye, dear Michael,” I said. “ Thank you 
for the nice party.” 

“ Don’t forget,” he whispered to the General. 

“ Rely on me.” 

“ I wonder,” he said as we got out and were walk- 
ing towards home, “ if she would let him pay me a 
short visit. I cannot bear to see children neglected.” 

“We might try, instead of rescuing a fairy 
Princess, to rescue a little lonely boy.” 

“ It would be an unusual arrangement.” 

“ It’s an unusual case,” I said. 

182 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


When I got in mother met me on the stairs. 

“ There’s a wire from Meg,” she said, “ they’re 
coming back to-morrow. They’ll be staying at the 
Carlton as they won’t open up the London house 
before they go North.” 

I felt depression lift like a mist. I wrote a few 
letters and went to bed early, so that to-morrow 
would come more quickly. 

I met them at the station. We flew into each 
other’s arms, while Stranmore looked on, smiling 
indulgently. 

“ She doesn’t look as if I treat her very badly, 
then? ” he asked as we sped along in a taxi to the 
Carlton Hotel and Kate full of importance helped 
her to dress, whilst Stranmore went down to order 
a table. 

“ He is angelic to me, Elizabeth, so kind and 
thoughtful, he has bought me some lovely sables and 
dresses, and to-morrow I’m to take you out and 
buy you anything you like.” 

I dined with them, mother and dad joined us 
after, and we all went to the theatre. At supper 
we met Lord and Lady Brindsley and their daugh- 
ter. He was rather an important member of the 
cabinet, and they were neighbours, their Estate ad- 
joining Stranmore’s. The daughter was pretty, 
with dark eyes, and black hair. She told me she 
adored London but they didn’t come up very often 

183 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


SO she was delighted to think Meg would be near 
them. 

“ I saw a picture in the Sketch of one of your 
house-parties,” I said, “ it looked great fun.” 

“ Oh, yes, we have plenty of parties, but they’re 
all political, and ducal, and royal, and much too 
stately. I once spent a week with a school friend 
of mine in Chelsea. We had the romp of the sea- 
son, I was taken to the Chelsea Arts Ball, and when 
we came back we all danced up deserted Chelsea 
Embankment in our fancy dresses.” 

She was all fire and vivacity, and her mother 
stately and dignified. I could not help thinking how 
very unlike them people’s children are. 

“ Deliciously simple, your sister,” said Lady 
Brindsley, “ I wonder why I never met her before.” 

“We didn’t go out much until about a year ago,” 
I said, “ we became rich then and began to go out 
to parties.” 

“And before ? ” said Lady Brindsley, looking at 
me in an amused way. 

“ Before that we were poor, and nobody Invited 
us, except Diana of course.” 

“And now Diana has gone into a nunnery. It’s 
absurd, she ought not to leave the world at her age; 
she has not seen enough of life to decide whether 
convent bells or wedding chimes sound sweetest.” 

When they said good-bye she said she hoped she 
184 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 

would meet me again and I told her I was coming 
up to stay with Margaret quite soon. 

I found Kate sitting up for me when I got back. 
She never would go to bed but always waited to see 
how I had enjoyed myself and what news there was 
to tell. I told her how sweet and happy Meg 
looked, and that her husband was most kind to her. 

“ I wish you could meet some nice man,” she said 
as she folded my dress. 

“ But you don’t like men, Kate, why are you so 
eager for me to settle down?” 

“ I begin to think it would be a good thing for 
you to be in love with someone.” 

“Kate, you haven’t fallen in love, have you?” 

“Me? Not likely, I hate men. All over the 
place when they’re engaged to you, and nowhere 
to be found when they’re married to you. That’s 
men. At the same time, there are nice ones, I sup- 
pose, and I’d like to s'ee a fine strapping young man, 
with a good character, and lots of money, running 
about after you.” 

“ There’s no rush that I can see,” I said rather 
cynically. 

“Ah, well. I’ll give you another year and then — 
we’ll go a tour ’round the world and become adven- 
turers again.” 

“ It is rather fun being adventurers, Kate.” 

“ There’s nothing like it for variety,” said Kate, 
185 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


and I always did like a bit of variety. Good- 
night, put some cold cream on your lips, they look 
rather dry.” 

Meg and I had a glorious day shopping, and she 
bought me lots of pretty things. Mother joined us 
at luncheon, and we all went down Bond Street, 
where we met Bernard, the snob. 

“ My dear Lady Stranmore, Elizabeth, Mrs. 
Sutherland! What a pleasure. How smart you all 
look. What heavenly violets. I was just wonder- 
ing If I should meet anyone worth meeting. Talk 
of angels and you all appear.” 

He was quite out of breath. 

“ Come and have chocolate at CharbonneFs,” 
said mother, “ and tell us all the news. You always 
have some.” 

And over our cups of creamy chocolate he waxed 
very eloquent. 

‘‘Angela is going to be married. Such a rich 
boy, years younger than she is, so plain and 
spotty — so — I believe you know him — you do — 
Sydney something.” 

“Jarrette,” I said. 

“ Probably,” said Bernard. 

“Won’t mamma Jarrette be delighted,” I said. 

“Will she?” said Bernard. “I expect Angela 
will forget all about poor little Sydney, and tear ofiE 

i86 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


to Paris with me, and a lively party, and He’ll let 
her, as he won’t dare to argue with a title. She 
has promised to give some most expensive parties 
and I am to bring all the guests. I’m going to do 
myself very well, I assure you. I used to like 
Angela myself once, but, really, she’s too expensive, 
so I don’t mind if she does marry Mr. — er 
Carrot — er — Parrot — ” 

“Jarrette,” I said. 

“ The name’s bad enough, it doesn’t really mat- 
ter,” said Bernard airily. “ Do come to the play 
to-night. I’ve got a box and supper after at the 
Tigress.” 

“ Meg and I are spending the evening together,” 
I said. 

‘‘You come, Mrs. Sutherland, you’re always 
ready to amuse yourself, now do.” 

Mother accepted and we parted at the door, 
Bernard flying off, because he spied the Duchess of 
Wold’s carriage outside a shop, and we saw him 
asking the footman something as we walked away. 

Stranmore had a Parliamentary dinner, so Meg 
and I dined at home. Just like old times. 

“Are you really happy?” I said. “You don’t 
wish you had married someone young?” 

“ No, not a bit, it’s just as I knew it would be, 
restful and away from all worry and difficult per- 
sonalities like dad.” 


187 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ He is difficult,” I said. 

“Have you seen the one again?” 

I shook my head. 

“ Do you think of him? ” 

“ Very often.” 

“ Would you like to marry him? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Would you without knowing anything about 
him? ” 

“ I would marry him to-morrow if he asked me.” 

“ It’s like wondering how a book will end,” said 
Meg. “ I wonder if you will live happily ever after, 
if you do meet him again.” 

The next day they went, and I returned to ordi- 
nary routine. Dad rated me because Sydney Jar- 
rette was engaged to Lady Angela. 

“ I think you might have done it. It was the one 
thing I asked of you.” 

I began to wonder if I was being selfish, and 
foolish. I was living for a dream, a vision, a fleet- 
ing glimpse of a man in a theatre — He didn’t even 
know my name, he had probably never thought of 
me again. How could I possibly ever meet him. 
I had nothing definite, nothing tangible to go on. 
In the night a ship had passed me, on the darkened 
sea, for a brief second, a light had illumined a face, 
then the darkness enveloped it again, leaving me 
alone watching, waiting, expectant. 

i88 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


Diana wrote from Stapleton where she had gone 
to the Gray Sisters. 

I have brought the picture of Sister Eleanora and have 
it on a table in my cubicle. The chapel is so restful and 
the sea noises are like exquisite voices. The nuns have 
made me very welcome. I feel as if I had been away in 
a busy noisy place, and have come back home. Nothing 
is strange to me, nothing irksome. I am very glad to 
have left the rough and thorny path for this sheltered 
retreat, where I can live with those whose every thought 
is pure and sweet, and where my soul can commune with 
the Unseen. We have a guest house, where I hope you 
will come some day. I should so love to show you how 
happy a nun can be, and as Sister Eleanora first led my 
steps to you, I have taken her name, and so you see you 
have a letter from your most loving 

Sister Eleanora. 

I showed this letter to the General. 

“ That is the letter of a contented mind. We 
may not understand, but we must admit she has 
found her soul there.” 

“ Could a soul be found In the world? ” 

“ I believe that great sorrow or great happiness 
releases the soul.” 

Then I told him about the man. He said it was 
a wonderful story. 

“ I don’t know that I shall ever see him again.” 

“ That of course is in the lap of the gods,” he 
said, “ but It Is an interesting sequence, first in the 
old chapel in Yorkshire, then again In London. I 
189 


THE WIDENING CIRCEE 


do not know that such a chain, though only forged 
by a very few links, could cease. I think you will 
meet again.” 

“ I believe the whole of my life depends on it.” 

“ Then you must meet again,” said the General, 
“ if I have to search London for this unknown 
young man. And now I must tell you that Mrs. 
Stone has consented to Michael coming to visit me. 
She is going away to take the cure at Bath and was 
rather wondering what to do with the boy. So 
Nanny is to have a holiday, and he will be with me 
for one momth. Mrs. Binks will look after him. 
She jumped at the chance. She’s very fond of boys 
and he’ll be in good hands. He’s coming next 
Monday, a few days before you go North.” 

“ Then I’ll see you both settled comfortably 
before I go.” 

Mother was glad for me to stay with Meg, but 
had a rooted idea, that to go to the country was 
always to bury oneself. 

“ There will be other people, a party.” 

“Yes, perhaps, but the country is so damp, and 
everyone gets up too early, and country shoes are 
unbecoming, so are country clothes — really service- 
able ones — lumping skirts.” 

“ But, it’s so healthy and fresh and good for you.” 

“ It’s not good for me,” said mother, “ my mind 
feels clogged. You go for miles without meeting 
190 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


anyone, and when you do meet anyone they look so 
dull — The women wear fashions of years ago, 
there are no theatres, no shops, and when you walk 
in a village, you always get back to the church and 
the churchyard — Most depressing.” 

“ What a long speech,” I said. 

“ I know what I’m talking about,” said mother, 
“ I used to live In the country, but I didn’t like it, 
that’s why I married your father.” 

The week drew to a close. I had a small glimpse 
of another sort of life. It was in Oxford Street one 
wet day. A little girl carried a rather large parcel, 
and a jug of something — The street was slippery; 
she missed her footing, and fell on the curb. The 
parcel came undone, a loaf of bread fell out, and 
rolled under a passing cart, the wheel went over It 
and destroyed it. The jug lay broken in a pool of 
m.Ilk and the little girl stood crying. I went to her. 

“ Don’t cry. I’ll get you some more.” 

“ The jug’s broken,” she said, “ and I can’t buy 
any more milk.” 

“ I’ll buy you a new jug. I’ll give you back every- 
thing you’ve lost. Come with me.” 

We avoided the little crowd that had gathered, 
and went down a side street. 

There’s some shops In Marlebone High Street,” 
she said. 

And there we went a-marketing, and got some 
191 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


more bread and some more milk and a new jug, and 
I added some things of my own — cheese, bacon, 
butter, tea — jam. We bought as much as we could 
carry and started for home. Home ! — a dingy 
street, a narrow passage way, stairs bare of carpet, 
a tap room, and in the room a group of little chil- 
dren — Two small boys, and a little girl, like the 
one with me, a man lying on a hard iron bed with a 
dirty blanket over him. The window cracked and 
broken. On the table a newspaper spread and five 
old cups, and plates. Near it a broken-down black 
horse-hair chair, and two almost seatless cane chairs. 
There was no fire, only a small rusty spirit stove, 
with a kettle on it — Everything dusty, dirty, cheer- 
less, sordid. 

“ We’re in a bad way. Miss,” said the man, “ I’ve 
been laid up, can’t get to work, asthma so bad, comes 
on in the damp weather.” 

“ The lady’s been awfully good, father. She’s 
brought us some things to eat.” 

‘‘ Please let me help you to get tea ready,” I said, 
taking off my gloves. 

“kYou’re more than welcome, and it’s very kind 
of you,” said the man gratefully. “ Here’s Jenny 
having to be mother, and sick nurse, and everything 
combined.” 

“ I’ll do what I can,” I said. 

Soon the table was set more tidily, the stove 
192 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 

lighted, the kettle singing and some bacon frying in 
an old frying pan quite merrily. I lighted the stump 
of a candle when all was ready, and they gathered 
’round the table, wan, solemn little creatures in 
their ragged clothes — Slice after slice of bread, 
rasher after rasher of the savory bacon, they ate — 
one after another, the cups came back for more tea 
— the father lay on his bed, smiling contentedly, 
eating his share. In the midst of this pleasant meal, 
there was heard the sound of a step on the stairs. 
Jenny started. 

“ Mother Jarvis,” she said. 

A big gaunt woman, in a dirty sackcloth apron, 
stood on the threshold, her hair slovenly, a faded 
pink blouse open at the neck. 

“ Having a good feed, and me wanting the money 
for yer room,” she said in a nasty voice. 

“What do they owe?” I said quickly. 

“ Fourteen shillings and sixpence. Been owing 
for weeks now.” 

“ Here’s a pound,” I said, “ don’t worry them, 
they’re so happy. Don’t give me any change. You 
can take next week’s rent out of it too.” 

She looked at the money, and then looked at me. 

“ I wouldn’t be ’ard, only I got my way to make, 
and my children to think of.” 

“ It’s all right,” I said, “ I’m sure you won’t be 
hard in future.” 


193 


THE WIDENING CIR'CEE 


“Feeling better, Mr. Patter?” she said quite 
kindly to the sick man. 

“Yes, thanks to this lady’s kindness,” he said. 

“ I’ll come up and give the room a bit of a clean 
to-morrow.” 

“ I’d be much obliged if you would, Mrs. Jarvis; 
it ’d do with it. I’ll say that.” 

She went out. I heard her thudding, thudding 
down the wooden stairs, a receding tide of disaster. 

“ My,” said Jenny, heaving a sigh of relief, “ it’s 
something to have paid her off.” 

“ I can’t thank you,” said the man. 

“ Don’t thank me,” I said. “ I’ll come again, I 
never did anything like this before. I did not know 
people could be so neglected. Good-night, don’t 
worry. I’ll be your friend.” 

“ God bless you. Miss.” 

I shut the door and descended the dark stairs, 
and so into the street — The evening was wet and 
foggy — A few loungers stood at . their doors, a 
baby was crying somewhere in a house nearby — a 
boy leaned against the lamp post playing a mouth 
organ, oblivious of the drizzling rain — I found a 
cab and drove home. The hall was warm and 
luxurious, the fire was red — I mounted the soft 
carpeted stairs to my own comfortable bedroom — 
Only a street or two away, in a gloomy tenement 
building, six people sat at a dirty table on broken 
194 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


chairs, their faces smiling, though grubby, smiling 
because of the things which I had bought — What 
contrasts life produces — I did not know till then, 
how much bliss can be purchased for thirty shil- 
lings. I had never spent my pocket money like that 
before. It was almost like being a god, to bring 
the smile to the faces of children. 

I leave you two charges whilst I’m away,” I said 
to the General, as he and I and Michael sat ’round 
the table having tea at his flat in Campden Hill 
Court, “ the Potter family and Michael. Look 
after them.” 

“ I’ll see to it,” said the General. “ Is that all 
you would like me to do? ” 

“ That’s all.” 

“ We shall miss you, Mrs. Pan,” said Michael, 
“ awful much. But I do like being here, they under- 
stand a person here more than at home. I wish I 
could live here for always.” 

“Well, sufficient unto the day,” I said, “which 
means be happy while you are here, and don’t bother 
about the future.” 

“We intend to make some expeditions,” said the 
General, “ so that the days won’t seem so long while 
you’re away. We’re going to the Zoo, and the 
Tower of London, and the British Museum to see 
the Egyptian mummies.” 

“ Why was Egypt famous for mummies more 

195 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


than any other place, Mrs. Pan? There’s mummies 
everywhere.” 

They’re different sort of mummies,” I ex- 
plained, hiding a smile. 

“ The best sort I suppose, as they are so 
famous — mummies who truly love their children, 
and don’t tell them to go away because ‘ my head 
aches 

“ The very best mummies in the world,” I said. 

Michael sighed. 

“ I’m sorry my mummie wasn’t an Egyptian 
mummie,” he said. I sighed as I put on my gloves. 

“ I’ll see you home,” said the General. I kissed 
Michael good-bye, and left him with Mrs. Binks, 
fat, rosy, and gray-haired. He was in good hands. 
We went ’round to the Potters on the way home. I 
had ordered some coal at the General’s expense, and 
we took a parcel of nourishing food. We didn’t go 
up, but Jenny came running down. 

“ Farver’s much better, and the children’s getting 
quite fat with all the food they have now. Farver 
sends his regards and respects, and he likes the 
books. Sometimes he reads bits of them to us after 
tea. How people think of things to write I don’t 
know. Don’t you be away long, we shall miss you.” 

I felt a glow on me. Michael, the General, the 
Potters, were all sad at my going. They would miss 
me, and think of me and want to see me again. I' 
196 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


felt as if the sun shone on me — That night I lay 
awake a little while, wondering about the morrow, 
and I thought that however short the journey, and 
however much people may like going away, there 
is a touch of death in all partings. 

“ This is your room, the one we had together 
when we came up before. I thought you might like 
it,” said Meg. 

“Who’s here?” I asked. 

“ There’s a rather nice man called Houston, 
Colonel Houston, and his son Gerald, a Mr. and 
Lady Cecilia Montague, the Duke and Duchess of 
Wold, perfect dears, always snapping each other 
up, but very devoted really — The men go shooting 
all day, and we can do as we like. I’ve seen a good 
deal of the Brindley’s Muriel, the girl is passing 
through another fit of depression, because they have 
what she called ‘ a rampingly royal house party ’ at 
present.” 

“ It all sounds great fun to me. What shall I 
put on? ” 

“ Something pretty,” said Meg, “ I’m longing to 
show you to people, and let them see what a delight- 
ful sister I have.” 

The Duke of Wold was big and red-faced, with 
side whispers like a groom, and his lady, small, fair, 
and beautifully dressed. She spoke in a quick, jerky 
197 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


way, and turned her head with little brisk move- 
ments like a chirpy sparrow. 

Colonel Houston was rather the General’s type, 
and his son, just as Meg had said, boyish, keen on 
sport and always In the open air. 

Mr. Montague, a gruff country squire, and Lady 
Cecilia, stout and very much like a farmer’s wife, 
were both full of fun, and good talkers. 

Gathered ’round the hospitable board, we were 
very gay and festive. Everyone seemed to know 
each other, and get on well. The Duke had a small 
argument with his Duchess about his throat which 
had been a trifle relaxed. 

“ No shooting to-morrow, love,” said her Grace. 

“ Nonsense,” said the Duke sulkily. 

“You know what your throats are, dear?” 

“ You speak as if I had a dozen.” 

“ One is enough with laryngitis in It.” 

“ Nonsense,” said the Duke again, “ I won’t be 
coddled.” 

“ He is so self-willed,” said the Duchess to 
Stranmore, “ I can’t control him.” 

“You wouldn’t keep me indoors when there’s 
shooting like this,” said young Houston, “ never 
had such a topping time in my life.” 

He turned to me. 

“We motored up the moors, and shot from the 
car. We took the dogs, and got no end of grouse.” 

198 


SOME MONOTONOUS DAYS 


We’re eating some of the victims now, I sup- 
pose,” said Lady Cecilia. “ Men are cruel crea- 
tures, they love killing things.” 

“ What about the osprey? ” said Mr. Montague, 
“ are not you ladies cruel, too ? ” 

“ That’s true,” said the Duchess. “ I never wear 
ospreys.” 

“ They don’t suit her,” whispered her husband, 
“ that’s why.” 

“ Don’t give me away, Goliath,” said the Duchess, 
shaking a finger at him. 

I looked up and down the long table — How 
sensible Meg had been. How solid she now was, 
at the head of her table, glittering with silver and 
crystal, laden with fruit, resplendent with hothouse 
flowers — I saw Stranmore catch her eye, and lift 
his glass. She smiled and blew a kiss. 

“ Old Stranmore’s fallen on his feet, marrying 
your sister,” Gerald Houston said to me in a low 
voice. 

“ She is lucky, too,” I said. 

“ Oh, of course — rather,” said the boy, “ only — 
well, most of the luck’s on his side.” 

After dinner the Duchess played to us. She was 
a magnificent pianist, and knew most of the operas. 
It was a great treat to sit in the softly lighted 
luxurious room and listen. Everyone retired early, 
as the men had had a long day in the bracing air, 
199 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


and began to be a trifle absent as the evening ad- 
vanced. I was glad to go, too. Any journey, how- 
ever small, seems to tire. I embraced Meg and told 
her how happy I was to be with her and went up — 
I thought of the friends at home when I put out 
the light — the General, little Michael the funny 
ragged Potter family — mother with her pretty 
dresses and power of enjoying parties — dad with 
his schemes and plans — I wondered what they 
were all doing. They seemed very far away, and 
thinking of being far away reminded me of the train 
journey, the rush through towns, and woods, and 
long flat stretches of country with distant hay-ricks 
and spires; the sudden startling vibration of another 
train passing in a flash and for a moment blotting 
out the landscape; the rush Into tunnels, and gradual 
emerging Into light. I seemed to hear the beat of 
the wheels, and the long whistle as we roared 
through country stations — I seemed still to be in 
the train, tearing along — the telegraph posts run- 
ning up to the train and passing swiftly away in 
endless succession. 


CHAPTER X 


THE MEETING OF TWO 

I woke up early, I heard a sort of horn in the 
distance. I heard a door bang far away in the 
house somewhere and a dog barking and yapping 
outside. 

“ Everyone gets up so early in the country,” I 
remembered mother’s words. I smiled to myself. 
I thought I would get up early, too, and go for a 
walk before breakfast. The house was quiet when 
I came out of my room, there were noises of sweep- 
ing and brushing downstairs, and a man whistling. 
I went out — it was a fine frosty morning — breezy, 
rather cold. I had put on a thick Shetland Jersey, 
and a scarf, and a fluffy wooly blue tam-o’-shanter. 
I ran quickly down the frosty path. The grass was 
furred with white — I got warm by running fast, 
and sat on a boulder by the river, which hurried 
past me, leaping and swirling, as if it were in a very 
bad temper. The sun was bright, the sky intensely 
blue, over the river the trees were bare of leaves. 
I could see quite a long way up the woodland path 
which, in Spring, had been hidden by overhanging 
branches. As I looked absently, thinking of the 
201 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


fallen leaves, and the lovely lost summer, I saw a 
man coming down the path — tall and broad, a gun 
over his shoulder, a dog at his heels, strolling down 
the bare little path, the sunlight all about him. He 
came nearer and nearer. He looked over the river 
which was narrow just there. We had met again, 
my Man and I. Only the narrow rushing river 
divided us — there were some big boulders un- 
covered, and some flat green weeded stepping 
stones; he came over to me, and stood with his cap 
off. The sun shone on him, his face was red, his 
hair looked fairer because of it. 

“ It’s a long time,” he said, “ but I did not forget 
you.” 

“ At the Coliseum that night? ” 

“ Yes, I knew we should meet again. The High 
Gods have taken a hand.” 

“ I hoped it would be in this sort of place,” I 
said, “ just nature, and trees, and sunshine.” 

“Any place would have been the same,” he said 
gravely. “ Shall we walk together over the fields ? I 
often imagined we walked over the fields, we two.” 
We walked side by side — I thought I was dream- 
ing — until I felt the wind on my face, and a dead 
bramble caught my skirt. 

“ That means you have a sweetheart,” he said, 
taking it off. “ Have you? ” 

“ No,” I said, looking at him earnestly. 

202 


THE MEETING OF TWO 

“ Until to-day,” he said. 

“ Until to-day, if you wish.” 

“ The gods wish it, evidently,” he said, “ for 
they have brought us together.” 

We came to a gate leading back to Stranmore up 
the hill. 

“Where do you live?” he said. 

“ I am staying with my sister, who has just mar- 
ried Stranmore.” 

“ I remember, I saw it in the paper.” 

“ Do you live here ? ” 

“ No, I am also a guest, in a house not very far 
away. What is your name?” 

“ Elizabeth.” 

“ It’s a nice name, but I’m going to call you 
Perdita. You remember they met in a wood, Per- 
dita and Florizel. Will you call me Antony?” 

“ Antony, what? ” 

“ Just Antony.” 

“ It’s very romantic like that.” 

“ Everything about you is romantic. Will you 
meet me to-morrow at the same place and time ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“Will you think of me all the time till then?” 

“Yes — will you?” 

“ I can’t help thinking of you. I cannot think 
of anything or anyone else in the world since that 
night when I saw you.” 


203 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


The Stable clock chimed nine. 

“ Oh, it’s nine o’clock — breakfast — I must go.” 

“ I suppose you must, to-morrow then, don’t 
forget.” 

“ I can’t forget either,” I said. 

I left him. I went towards the house. I turned, 
he stood looking after me. I waved to him. . . . 

‘‘Who is he?” said Meg. 

“ I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“ His name is Antony. I only told him my 
Christian name and he only told me his.” 

“ But where does he live? ” 

“ I don’t know that either. He says not far from 
here.” 

“ Isn’t it too interesting; we must ask him over if 
he lives near.” 

“ Don’t do anything till I tell you,” I warned her. 

“I won’t, of course, only — I hope — It’s all 
right.” 

“ Is God all right? ” I said. I felt as If the whole 
earth and sky were full of singing and melody. The 
day passed, meals came and went, the afternoon 
drew on, the men came back, noisy, heavy of foot, 
full of chat about the day’s sport, then dinner and 
more talk and laughter and music, and the day was 
over; only the gulf of night lay between me and 
to-morrow — Just as the river separated us in the 

204 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


morning, it separated us ; I kept wondering who he 
was. He was so fine and young and fond of me and 
we had met at last — we had spoken together — I 
did not think I should sleep, but I did dreamlessly, 
and the gulf of night grew narrower and thinner 
until at last the sun dried it up and it was morning. 
We met again. . . . 

We ran through the woods to get warm, and then 
sat on a fallen tree trunk. 

“ Look at those rowan berries, aren’t they red? ” 
I said. 

“ They are not so red as your lips.” 

“ Look at the sky,” I said, looking up, “ isn’t it 
blue?” 

“ I would rather look at your eyes.” 

I laughed and blushed. 

“ You say things like poetry.” 

“ You make me think of them.” 

“ The earth is very beautiful.” 

“ Now we have met, it is beautiful,” he said. 

‘‘This is love then?” I asked. 

“ This is love. Whether or not it will bring us 
happiness I do not know.” 

“ Is there any reason why it shouldn’t? ” 

“There may be,” he said, slowly lighting a 
cigarette^ “You see, although the world means 
only one person to me, and only one to you, there 
are quite a number of other people about.” 

205 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“Are there?” I said. 

And we laughed. 

It seemed a splendid joke. A robin came flut- 
tering down and perching on a branch looked at us 
sideways. 

“ There’s that robin at all events,” he said, 
“ eavesdropping. I wonder if he’s the little 
bird everyone talks about and who talks about 
everyone? ” 

We laughed again, just because to laugh together 
on a sunny morning was delightful. 

“ I don’t know who you are really,” I said. 

“ I know who you are.” 

“ Do you?” 

“Yes. You are Miss Elizabeth Sutherland. 
Your father has made a lot of money In railways, 
you live in London in a house at Knightsbridge.” 

“ Did you know all this yesterday? ” 

“ I found it out during yesterday.” 

“ How clever of you ; are you a detective ? ” 

He really did laugh that time. 

“No.” 

“Well, what are you, then? A soldier, a sailor^ 
a tinker, a tailor? ” 

“A thief,” said he, “ for I want to steal you. 
Now don’t talk any more about me, I want to knovt 
about you. About your life, what you think, where 
you live.” 


206 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


‘‘ There won’t be anything more to know about 
me in the future, because from now I am merged In 
you.” 

“ You’re such a darling. Talk to me.” 

I told him, as far back as I could remember, and 
he seemed very much amused. He said he would 
like to meet Meg, she must be so charming, because 
I loved her so much. 

“ I think you’d better come to tea or luncheon,” 
I said. 

“ I can’t very well, just at present.” 

“Why?” 

“ I’ll tell you later on. My people want me to 
work, not go out to parties.” 

“ I see, but you must have some meals some- 
where.” 

“ Oh, I have meals.” 

I looked at him rather critically. 

“ I do hope you’re not a ghost or anything.” 

“A ghost?” 

“ Yes — well — you only appear at dawn and to 
me, you don’t seem to have a name, you know all 
about me in one day, and you’re vague about meals, 
it sounds uncanny doesn’t it? ” 

“ I’ll just tell you one thing, you imaginative 
angelic thing. I love you, I want to marry you, but 
before I do I shall have a lot to arrange.” 

“ Lots to arrange? ” 


207 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“Yes.” 

“ About money, do you mean? Because I’m used 
to being poor, I shouldn’t mind that a bit. You 
know I told you about when we were poor.” 

“ Not about money at all, but don’t you bother, 
I’m going to see to everything, it will be quite all 
right and you need not trouble your pretty sagacious 
head about anything.” 

“ Very well,” I said, “ if you say so I won’t. But 
about Meg, shall I bring her out here one day? Do 
yo-u live in a hut in the woods? ” 

“No — no — no. I won’t tell you where I live, 
but I can’t often get out alone, and that’s what I 
must try and arrange.” 

“ I don’t understand it in the least,” I said, “ but 
I leave it to you.” 

“ Bring Meg to-morrow and then she will know 
that I’m all right, and not a brigand who is going 
to run away with you.” 

“ That will be very nice. To-morrow as ever is; 
she thinks it all most thrilling.” 

“ It is thrilling, it is the best thing that ever hap- 
pened to anybody in the world. I want to kiss you.” 

I didn’t know I should like to be kissed, but I did. 
I was glad nobody had ever kissed me before — I 
saw a picture once called “A Summer Idyll,” a 
shepherd kissing a nymph, in a little wood on the 
edge of a cornfield; ’round their feet bloomed a 
208 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


cloud of red popples, and blue cornflowers, the 
nymph’s gold red hair was like a mist about her, and 
in the distance, over the waving golden sea of corn, 
a red harvest moon rose up — This was a winter 
idyll, under the bright morning sun, with burning, 
blue sky above, and bare trees overhead; but the 
kiss was the same. . . . 

Next morning Meg went with me and I intro- 
duced him. 

I saw you that day in the chapel,” said Meg. 
“ Do you remember me? ” 

“ I heard the music and came in. Some fate led 
me there.” 

“ Some fate has brought you two together 
again,” said Meg. “ It is most mysterious, and like 
a story, but we don’t know anything about you, do 
we? ” 

“ I will not keep you in the dark much longer; I 
was anxious to see you, so that you would not be 
uneasy about your sister. Now look at me well, and 
tell me, do you trust me or not? ” 

Meg turned her grave eyes on him. 

“ I trust you,” she said, “ my sister is very dear 
to me. I want her to live happy ever after, and if 
you cannot tell us much about yourself at present we 
must wait.” 

I’m afraid I cannot at present,” he said. 

“ That means,” said Meg slowly, “ that you are 
209 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


either engaged to someone, or married, even, or 
else that you have gorgonesque relations — or that 
you are someone very, very rich, and not allowed 
to be happy because you’ve got too much money.” 

“ I will tell you within a week, everything you 
want to know, but I’m not married, and not en- 
gaged, though there is a lady in view; my parents’ 
view, not mine, the only lady for me stands here.” 

He kissed my two hands. 

“ There’s that clock again,” I said, “ it’s always 
breakfast time.” 

“ I suppose we had better be going,” said Meg. 
“ Good-bye.” 

She gave him her hand and turned away. 

“ Until to-morrow,” I said. 

‘‘Aren’t you going to kiss me?” he asked 
reproachfully. 

I called after Meg. 

“ Don’t look for a minute, darling.” 

“ I didn’t on purpose,” said Meg, and strolled 
tactfully on. . . . 

But to-morrow was raining. Great gusts of wind 
swept past the house, and bent the sodden branches 
of the trees. Heavy clouds scudded across a 
whitish sky, and a silvery light was reflected in the 
puddles — I put on a thick coat and ran out down 
the slippery path. I got very wet. The grass swept 
’round my feet like a little brook, the trees dropped 
210 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


big drops on me. He was there in a great-coat. 
We clung together in the rain and wind. 

“ The sun is out through the rain, now you are 
here, but I must not let you take a cold. I’ll see you 
to your gate.” 

He took my arm and we walked under the wet 
trees. It didn’t matter, we were together. 

“ Things are shaping,” he told me as we parted. 
“ Read this letter, think of me. I’ll try to see you 
to-morrow or next day. I’ve got a plan.” 

“ You love me? ” 

“ I adore you, I worship you. Run now, pretty 
thing. Au revoir.” 

I hurried back and into a hot bath and so to 
breakfast. 

“You are one for the open air,” said Gerald 
Houston. “ I often see you coming back in the 
mornings. We could go out together. I’m always 
up.” 

I felt myself getting hot. 

“Yes — we might — but it’s very wet to-day, 
isn’t it? ” 

“ Very, but I saw you coming up the lawn helter, 
skelter.” 

“Now, dear, is that wise?” said Lady Cecilia, 
pausing, with a huge piece of cold grouse on the 
way to her mouth. “ You might get pneumonia.” 

“ Or laryngitis,” said the Duke with a twinkle. 


21 1 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ You should be careful,” said the Duchess, “ you 
won’t go out to-day, Stranmore, I suppose?” 

“No, I think not. Margaret, you said you’d 
help me put away some of the new books.” 

“ I will indeed,” said Meg, “ your room is in a 
perfect muddle, and I don’t dare to un-muddle it.” 

“ She’s terrified of me,” said Stranmore, “ daren’t 
oppose me in any way — I believe in wife beating, 
you see, does them a world of good.” 

Meg kissed the back of his head as she passed 
his chair. 

“ It does me good,” she said, “ to see you perking 
about, and making jokes, and not always buried in 
a library reading your books.” 

“ I am reading one of the best books in the world 
every day now,” he said, “ come along.” 

They went out together, and I stole up to my 
room and read my letter. 

My lovely Perdita: 

Ever since that evening when I first saw your face, I 
have been in love, I have been in heaven — I have seen 
the world anew, and I know what the man who has been 
in the arid desert feels when he sees the oasis — what a 
thirsty earth feels after a shower of cooling rain — what 
the lonely castaway on a desert island feels when he sees 
a sail ! You 'possess my heart, and you are ever in my 
thoughts. That first meeting in the winter woods, with 
the rushing river between, was the consummation of my 
dreams of you. As you stood there, wrapt in the blue 
woolen scarf, your cheeks red in the wind, your little 
212 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


blue cap, like a halo on your bright hair, you were to me 
the emblem of youth, and supreme joy, and when you 
smiled I thought the bare branches had leaves on them, 
and all the ground was white with spring flowers — when 
I kissed you for the first time, the whole of the earth 
seemed bathed in a flood of blinding light, I heard all 
’round me bells, chiming, and ringing, and swinging in 
melody. Soon I will come to you, and take you for my 
own, and I now swear to you, that I will love and cherish 
you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, 
and I will keep me only unto you as long as we both shall 
live. 

Antony. 

Oh, Diana! my sweet nun; can you forego such 
joy as this, may you never receive from your man a 
letter so full of burning love? When I had read 
that first tender love-letter, my thoughts went out to 
her and I was glad not to be a nun. 

• ••••••• 

It was late in the same afternoon, I sat in the 
drawing room with Meg, the men were playing 
billiards. 

“ I would like you to read this letter, Meg, you 
will then see how his mind is.” 

“ It is a great privilege,” said Meg, and took the 
letter. 

I looked out of the broad window, which framed 
a lovely picture, the storm clouds had all gone, and 
the sky was clear washed and translucent; a bright 
spear of light from the setting sun glorified the 
213 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


purple moorland, and made the rain-drops on the 
branches and window-pane glitter like molten gold. 
A flock of wild birds streamed across the sky, down 
the misty hillside walked the herdsman after his 
beasts. I thought of some lines I had once read. 

A little mist creeps up o^er hill and dale, 

A distant bell, sweet summer’s knell doth toll, 

A shepherd calls his flock across the vale, 

I hear the distant drums of winter roll. 

“ It is like looking into a soul,” said Meg, giving 
me the letter back, “ he is a good man, I believe, 
you should be very happy some day.” 


I had a tiny note that night, the butler handed it 
to me after dinner. 

I cannot go to the trysting place to-morrow, but you 
will hear of me later in the day. Do not show surprise, 
though you may find it hard not to, at whatever happens. 

Antony. 


Meg tackled Bentley. 

“ Who brought the note, Bentley? ” 

“ A groom, my lady.” 

“ Did he say where he came from? ” 

“ No, my lady, but—” 

“ Do you know where he came from? ” 

“ I think he came from the Marquis of Brindsley’s 
place, my lady.” 


214 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


“ From Cottenham? ” 

“ Yes, my lady.’ 

“ I see, thank you.” 

“He’s staying at the Brindsley’s then?” 

“ Did Muriel speak of any one of the guests in 
particular then?” 

“ No, at least she said there was a Royalty of 
some sort and a political guest or two.” 

“ I wonder, perhaps he’s the Secretary to one of 
them. He’s too young for a politician, and he cer- 
tainly isn’t the other.” 

“Well, they’re bringing a party to dinner to- 
morrow,” said Meg, “ so we shall see. What fun 
if he’s amongst them. I am to know who is coming, 
in the morning.” 

“We can get introduced properly then. Do you 
think he will come ? ”, 

“ I should think it very likely.” 

“ That’s what he means then perhaps, in this 
note. Look, ‘ You will hear of me later in the 
day.’ ” 

“ Dinner, of course.” 

“ Evidently,” said Meg. 

“ Only read what he says, ‘ that I am not to be 
surprised at whatever happens.’ I don’t understand 
that.” 

“ I do,” said Meg, “ he probably doesn’t want 
the Brindsleys to know that we’ve spoken to him 
215 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


without an Introduction, I’m quite sure I ought not 
to have let you. You see I’m a chaperone now.” 

The next morning I had a long epistle from the 
General. He and Michael were having a very 
enjoyable time. “ Michael is not so grave as he 
was, we go for splendid walks, I took him by train 
to Ruisllp the other day, and we walked over the 
fields and had tea at a little inn, with home-made 
jam, new laid eggs, and everything he wanted. He 
seems to appreciate every picturesque turn of the 
road, and pointed out many of the beautiful effects 
of sunlight on the tree-trunks, for though It was 
cold the sun was very bright — We agree about one 
thing above all others, we miss the charming young 
female who brought us together, and we hope she 
is enjoying herself. Remember me to Stranmore, 
he very kindly Invited me up, but I will go later, as 
I do not care to leave Michael. Have you any 
news? I hope you have met some interesting people 
up there. My love to her ladyship. Yours de- 
votedly, Richard Samson.” 

I had not yet written to tell him of Antony. I 
thought I would wait until things were more settled. 
Meg came In while I was reading. She had an open 
letter In her hand. “ They are bringing four guests 
to-night,” she said, “this Is what Lady Brindsley 
says, ‘ We are bringing the young Prince of Basle. 
He does not want any fuss made about It. Sir 
216 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


George Dalrymple, Captain Stuart and Aunt Agnes 
Ladbroke.’ ” 

“ Captain Stuart, that’s my Antony,” I said. 

“ Of course,” said Meg. 

“ He must be a sort of gentleman in waiting, and 
couldn’t ever get off without that ridiculous Prince.” 

“ What a bore for him, I don’t envy him, it must 
be awfully trying to be in waiting on anybody. 
That’s why he could never get off by himself. What 
do you do with a Prince I wonder? ” 

He’s the King’s cousin, it’s rather exciting 
really. I think Pd better ask the Duchess about the 
etiquette.” 

“ He’s a charming creature,” said the Duchess, 
“ quite good-looking and exceptionally brainy. A 
great musician, too.” 

“ But old, you may depend upon it,” whispered 
Meg to me. 

“ Do we curtesy to him? ” 

‘‘ Yes, just make a little bob, when he shakes 
hands. He’s very nice and simple, and don’t forget 
to ask him to play. Lady Stranmore.” 

“ Stuart, so that’s the name. It goes rather well 
with Elizabeth, sounds rather old-fashioned, Eliza- 
beth Stuart. I don’t wonder he couldn’t go out 
when he liked.” 

“ I suppose we shan’t get in a word to-night. 
Probably the Prince wouldn’t let him marry.” 

217 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“We needn’t meet trouble half way,” advised 
Meg, “ the Prince may be a very kind, fatherly old 
thing, and take a fancy to you. Oh, dear, I must 
go and order the banquet. I hope the salmon has 
come. That fishmonger is the only blot on my mar- 
ried life. He keeps me in agonies of suspense every 
day about whether he’s going to happen or not.” 

She hurried off to consult the housekeeper, and 
I went out with Gerald Houston who was teaching 
me tennis in the covered court. 

“I wonder if the Prince is a nice old man?” 1 
said as we rested between the games. 

“ Old, he’s not old, quite a young chap. Jolly 
good sport, too, fellow I know, knows him well.” 

“What’s he like?” 

“ I don’t know, never seen him.” 

“ Could a Prince — prevent any person who 
was — in his employment — getting married?” 

“ Shouldn’t think so. Who do you mean, a valet 
or something? ” 

“No — you know — they have men going about 
with them.” 

“ Sounds like a mental case.” 

“ Don’t be silly, Gerald, I mean — his gentleman 
in waiting — Could he prevent his getting 
married? ” 

“ Don’t suppose so, at least, he might perhaps if 
the lady was a rotter.” 


218 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


“Well, she isn’t,” I said indignantly my face 
flaming. 

He looked at me. 

“ I don’t know what you’re driving at. Is any- 
one belonging to the Prince engaged to anyone you 
know? ” 

“ I don’t think so — I don’t know quite — never 
mind — it doesn’t matter,” 

“ Then if it doesn’t matter let’s get on with the 
game.” 

I put on my white dress, the one I had worn at 
our dance. I wanted to be in white. I wanted him 
to think me pretty, because we had only met in the 
very early morning, when it was cold, and even in 
the rain. 

“You look lovely, Elizabeth,” said Meg as we 
descended the wide staircase together. 

“ I feel a little frightened, somehow.” 

“ Silly Elizabeth.” 

Everyone assembled in the lofty hall. A huge fire 
of logs crackled and spluttered, casting dancing 
lights on the brass work. The lamps glowed softly 
under their rose-colored shades. Outside the wind 
whistled and moaned. At seven forty-five, the 
party from Cottenham arrived. I only saw one of 
the party, and as I looked at him, I saw that the 
guests bobbed to him, one by one, as he shook 
hands, and I knew then that he was a Prince. I 
219 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


trembled as he took my hand; I tried not to show 
any surprise, and he passed on and spoke to the 
others which gave me time to recover. Everything 
seemed in a sort of haze. I heard people talking 
and laughing. I went in to dinner on Captain 
Stuart’s arm — He was a stern looking, thin man, 
with iron gray hair, and moustache, and eye glasses, 
and I wondered as he looked so stern, what he 
would think if he knew about me and his Prince, 
whom he kept rather an alert eye on. Now and then 
down the long table I caught Antony’s eye, and I 
smiled at him and he at me, and after, when we had 
gone, I didn’t hear a word the Duchess said to me. I 
kept thinking of him, and of how wonderful, and 
awful, and disturbing it was, to have a Prince fall in 
love with you, when you are not anyone in particu- 
lar, and you know what a lot of trouble will happen 
because of it. 

“ You are dreaming, young lady,” the Duchess 
said. 

I begged her pardon. 

“ I said that the young Prince looks rather a fairy 
tale one.” 

“ He does,” I said softly. 

“ He’s the strangest creature,” said Lady 
Brindsley, “ he’s been ill, you know, and is here con- 
valescing. We have known his father. Prince 
George, for many years. We don’t see much of the 
220 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


boy, he has his own suite, and goes in and out as he 
likes, at least not quite as he likes for Captain 
Stuart keeps a very careful watch on him.” 

“ He is meant to be a sort of watch dog, I sup- 
pose,” said Lady Cecilia, “ in case he should get 
into mischief.” 

“ I think that highly improbable,” said Lady 
Brindsley, “ because he is so studious, and aloof, and 
doesn’t seem to notice women at all.” 

“ He will,” said the Duchess, “ he will notice 
women presently. Can a duck swim?” 

“ His fate will be a hideous one, I fear,” said 
Muriel, “ a fat German princess will be his portion.” 

“ What a pity,” said the Duchess, “ and such a 
nice boy.” 

Meg looked at me and moved over. 

“Well,” she said, “what do you think of it. I 
am afraid there are breakers ahead.” 

“ It must all end,” I said, “ his position makes 
everything impossible.” 

“ He knows better than we do, and he said he 
was trying to arrange something.” 

“ Princes can’t arrange things. People think for 
them.” 

“ At any rate we must hear what he says about 
everything.” 

She smiled a little. 

“ I am awfully glad it’s a Prince, darling, even 


221 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 

if you never marry him — It’s very much like 
Cinderella, isn’t it? ” 

“Very,” I said. “When we sat by the smoky 
fire, in the Gloucester Place sitting room, with the 
incandescent gas popping and gurgling over the 
mantelpiece, we didn’t think a Prince would fall in 
love with one of us, did we? ” 

When the men appeared, Antony came straight 
over and sat beside me. 

“ So that’s what,” I said reproachfully. 

“Yes,” said he, “isn’t it unfortunate.” 

“ Most people think it fortunate to be a Prince.” 

“ If it is to make any trouble for the lady I love, 
it Is unfortunate, but It shall not spoil our lives, we 
have been brought together, and I will not let them 
take you from me. Come and meet me to-morrow.” 

Meg came back to us. 

“ Indiscretion must not be the fault of a Princess,” 
she said In a low voice. “ Do not allow anyone to 
know you are such friends. Won’t you play to us, 
it would be such a pleasure. You can say what you 
like to her to-morrow.” 

He rose. 

“ I’ll tell you how much I love you in the music,” 
he said to me softly as he moved away with Meg 
towards the piano, and when he played I was quite 
content. I heard how much he loved me. Now and 


222 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


then he turned his eyes in my direction, and played 
with deep feeling and passion — He played for me 
alone. 

At about ten-thirty Lady Brindsley took her 
guests away. In the entrance where Meg and I 
stood together to see them off, he brushed past me. 

“ Good-night, beloved Perdita.” 

“ Good-night, Florizel, the letter was wonderful. 
I sleep with it under my pillow.” 

They went away in the windy night, the red 
lamps of the cars fading away like dim poppies in 
the blackness — I shivered and went in. I laughed 
a little as I kissed Meg. 

“ Even Kings doff their crowns for a nightcap,” 
I said, “ and rank is very much a matter of day- 
light. Most people look alike in their night shirt, 
and in their coffins.” . . . 

When we met the next morning, I said: 

“ Why didn’t you tell me before? ” 

“ Because I wanted you to love a poor wayfarer.” 

I should have done it in any case.” 

“ Now I know you really love me.” 

“ You will not be allowed to marry me, Antony, 
it has never been done.” 

“ That doesn’t mean it never could be done,” he 
said, “ look at Mrs. Fitzherbert and George the 
Fourth. They were married.” 

“ In a very peculiar way,” I reminded him. 

223 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ He was the King, I am only the King’s cousin, 
not nearly so important.” 

“ I don’t like Captain Stuart.” 

“ Neither do I,” said Antony. “ Isn’t he an old 
lynx? ” 

“ He would like to keep you from me, when he 
knows about us he will.” 

“ I am going to marry you.” 

“ I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Why are 
Princes not allowed to marry beggar maids? ” 

“ Oh, some rot about the succession, but I am 
quite a distant relation, so it really wouldn’t matter.” 

“ We might just as well never have met,” I said 
despondently. 

He tried to cheer me and begged me to trust him. 
He asked me to tell Meg he would marry me what- 
ever happened, and however difficult things might 
appear. And then Captain Stuart came down the 
path and stood looking at us. He took off his cap 
and bowed coldly to me. 

“ This weather is not very good for you, sir,” he 
said, “ and apart from the weather, it is not good 
for you to be out so early every morning.” 

** We weren’t out yesterday morning,” I said. 

No,” he said icily, “ and I trust you will not be 
out to-morrow morning. If you will allow me, I will 
walk back with you to your house, as it is almost 
breakfast time.” 


224 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


Antony stood with an angry expression on his 
face. 

“ I will see Miss Sutherland up the hill,” he said, 

and join you later.” 

Captain Stuart bowed to me formally. I hurried 
away from him, he frightened me. Antony followed. 

“ Spy,” he said, angrily chipping off the dry twigs 
with his stick. 

“ He will never let us meet again, it’s finished, he 
hates me.” 

“ It is not finished, I shall meet you, it is only the 
beginning. Keep up your heart, for I swear I will 
marry you whatever happens.” 

We parted at the little gate, and he went swing- 
ing off. 

‘‘ So that’s what happened this morning,” said 
Meg, “ I don’t know what to advise. We’d better 
await developments. Your Antony looks to me a 
man of spirit and determination.” 

“Hadn’t we better ask Stranmore? I feel sure 
he would advise us.” 

“ I think I should wait,” said Meg, “ oh, I do 
hope your life is not going to get in a muddle.” 

I felt everything was going wrong — A week 
passed — We met once, but I had a note delivered 
to me every day. The last one asked me to meet 
him in the music room, where the long windows 
opened out into the garden. He suggested I should 
225 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


be there after tea, when it was too dark for anyone 
to see him come in. At five-thirty I waited for him 
and he came. We clung together. 

“ Now, listen, during this week Stuart has 
scarcely let me out of his sight, but to-day my 
servant, George, told me he sent off a wire — It 
was to my father, saying he must get me away from 
here at once, and asking for instructions.” 

“ Oh, Antony, they mean to separate us.” 

I mean to prevent them.” 

“ What can you do ? ” 

“ I’ve got a plan, the only one, very bold. I 
must try and work it, because if I go away from 
here, they’re sending me to France.” 

“ France!” 

He put his arms around me. 

“ Hush, I’m not going, I intend to make a plan 
so that I need not go.” 

“ Will it be a nice plan? ” 

“ If it comes off it will be a great plan, and it 
will mean that I stay here In this house.” 

“ This house I What is the plan? ” 

“ I can’t tell you yet. My man will have to help. 
He’s as true as steel, and I think a Doctor.” 

“You’re not ill?” 

“ No, sweet thing, but I shall be if I’m taken 
away from you.” 

“ I feel like that, too. When I say good-bye to 
226 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


you there’s a sort of empty feeling, as if there isn’t 
anything anywhere.” 

“ You do love me, then? ” 

“ I do indeed.” 

“ Then everything is worth while.” 

“ I wish I were a Duchess in my own right.” 

“ I don’t, I want you to be a Princess on my own 
right.” 

“ I wish I knew more about this plan, it frightens 
me ; will it hurt you ? ” 

“ Nothing would hurt me, so long as I can see 
you.” 

“ Is it dangerous? ” 

“ No ; look, it’s getting late, I must go. I’ll come 
again to-morrow about the same time, or get a 
letter to you.” 

We kissed. 

“ It’s rather an adventure, really,” I whispered. 

“ I love an adventure when you are the heroine.” 

I opened the window and let him out into the 
darkness. I left the library and went along to join 
the others in the hall. Everyone was leaving the 
following day — The Duchess was busy with her 
ribbons. 

“ You must come and stay with us in the spring,” 
she said to Meg, “ Suffolk is a very attractive 
county; I should like to show you my gardens.” 

“Your gardens are famous,” said Lady Cecilia, 
227 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ the Water Garden too beautiful. I saw some pic- 
tures of It in Country LifeJ* 

“ They wanted me to pose against a sun dial,” 
said her grace, “ but I thought not, and the Duke 
thought not. I don’t feel the least like a water lily, 
or pood nymph at my age, though at one time, I 
remember, the Duke likened me to something 
equally ethereal.” 

“A nymph Is all very well in theory,” said Mr. 
Montague, “ but give me someone who looks after 
one’s comforts. A sip of honey and a drop of dew 
is very poor fare for a man.” 

The Duchess was pleased. 

“ I think I do look after him well,” she said, “ and 
he has such an excellent dinner at home, he seldom 
wants to dine out.” 

“Well, I shall miss you all,” said Meg, “when 
you leave me to-morrow; it has been my first party 
and everyone has been happy.” 

“ You are a delightful hostess, my dear,” said 
the Duchess, “ I must congratulate you. The Duke 
is not the only one who will not be anxious to go out 
to dinner.” 

“ y ou are staying on with your sister? ” said Lady 
Cecilia to me. “ You seem to be great friends.” 

“ We’ve been a great deal together all our lives,” 
I said, “ and her marriage will not separate us I’m 
thankful to say.” 


228 


THE MEETING OF TWO 


There was a movement and everyone gathered 
up their books and work and rustled upstairs to 
dress. On the way up I told Meg about the inter- 
view in the library. 

“What plan can he have?” she said. 

“ He said it was a bold one.” 

“ I hope he isn’t going to dash off with you on a 
fiery horse, like the knights of old.” 

“ It’s about the only way,” I said despondently. 

“ It’s almost quieter not being in love,” said Meg, 
as she went along to her own room. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE ACCIDENT 

The next morning everyone left, and we were by 
ourselves, which was very much to our liking, for 
we felt we could walk and talk, whenever we were 
so Inclined. 

“ Now, what is the best thing to do? ” I said. 

“ Put on our coats, and go for a walk, and talk 
the whole thing over,” said Meg. 

“We’re always doing that.” 

“Well, Elizabeth, it’s the only thing to do. It’s 
a great help to talk. Look at the people In Hyde 
Park, they can’t do anything, but they love talking, 
it does them a lot of good.” 

We wandered through the woods arm in arm. 

“ You see,” said Meg, “ we must be practical, and 
sensible. I want to know if Antony is necessary to 
your happiness. You don’t know him very well, I 
consider him extremely nice and good looking, but 
of course character is the thing that matters, and we 
do not know much about his, at present.” 

“ I think in matters of the heart one has a sort of 
instinct. Cats always know the sort of people who 
will be kind to them. All animals do. Women are 
230 


THE ACCIDENT 


the same. I have waited so long, there seems to 
have been a reason for my waiting, and Antony has 
been sent to me in such a strange way, that by in- 
stinct, I know he is meant for me, he is good, his 
character is fine, and in fact, he is necessary to me.” 

“ You are willing to face great difficulties for his 
sake? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ You don’t think it would be better to say good- 
bye, and leave him all together out of your life? ” 

“ No, because I sincerely believe he would be very 
miserable if I did so.” 

“ Very well, then, we must wait a little longer 
and hear his plan. It seems a pity such a big situa- 
tion has to be faced. I wish your Antony was just 
a nice soldier, and you could marry him without any 
fuss and bother.” 

We were nearing a gap in'the trees, when a shot 
rang out, not very far away. Meg stopped. 

“ They’re shooting,” she said, “ we’d better move 
off in case we get winged.” 

We turned in the opposite direction. There was 
a sound of running feet, twigs snapping, a man ap- 
peared with his hat off breathless. 

“ Lady Stranmore.” 

He came up to us and stopped. 

“ I am Lady Stranmore I ” said Meg. 

“ Then come with me at once please, my lady.” 
231 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“Why, what is It?” 

“ If you follow me, my lady, I will tell you. Do 
not be alarmed, but something unusual has hap- 
pened.” 

“ Is anyone hurt? ” I asked quickly, as we hurried 
after the man. 

“Yes, Miss, my lady, not badly.” 

“ Oh,” said Meg, “ how dreadful, let us hurry, 
what can we do? ” 

“ I was to assure your ladyship, and the young 
lady, not to worry. I was to go to the house, only 
I saw you walking there. Everything will be all 
right, I think, I hope.” 

I began to feel a sickening feeling of apprehen- 
sion, as half running, half walking after the hatless, 
breathless man-servant, we followed. Then I saw 
someone standing against the tree trunk. 

“ Antony,” I cried out and ran to him. 

“What is it? Are you hurt?” said Meg. 

His hat was off, he looked rather pale, but smiled, 
he held one hand against his chest. A temporary 
sling had been made roughly. 

“ It’s all right,” he said, “I did it myself.” 

“Yourself, Antony, how could you try to kill 
yourself? ” 

“ No, not that, I had to be made unable to move. 
George knows, he was there.” 

George shook his head. 

232 


THE ACCIDENT 


“ He would do it, my lady. I tried to persuade 
him not to. His Highness has shot himself in the 
shoulder, my lady, it’s awful.” 

“But why,” said Meg wildly, “why do this?” 

“ I won’t be taken from you,” he said fiercely, 
“ they’ve made arrangements, I was to go to-mor- 
row. Stuart went to get the tickets, and carriage 
to-day.” 

I took his hand in both mine. 

“ How will this help ? I shall never be allowed to 
see you? ” 

“That’s all arranged, George knows — You know 
what to do, George, now go and do it — Lady Stran- 
more, I want him to go to Stranmore Hall, I want 
you to give him your orders — Send him to Stran- 
more to get assistance.” 

“I will,” said Meg, “but—” 

“ I desire to be carried to your house, where I 
can be near my Perdita.” 

He stopped and held his arm a minute with the 
other hand. 

“You’re in pain,” I said. “Oh, Antony, it’s 
dreadful, what can we do? ” 

“ I’m glad to have this pain, it is better than the 
pain of separation.” 

“So that was your plan?” said Meg, “It’s a 
wonderful, awful plan. I’ll do everything to help 
you. Yes, I will.” 


233 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


She turned to a servant waiting there. 

“ Go to the Hall,” she said, “ speak to the house- 
keeper, say I sent you, bring some men, and a carry- 
ing chair, there is one, I know, tell them to prepare 
the blue suite, then come back quickly. Say you met 
me, and those are my orders. Say anything you 
like.” 

He touched his head and was gone. 

“ I love you for doing this mad, bad thing, but 
will It be any use? ” 

‘‘ It will hold things up, they cannot take me 
away, my father will come down probably, certainly, 
and I shall tell him about Perdita — Why are you 
looking so pale. I’m not In danger, darling girl.” 

I felt the tears rising in my eyes. 

“ It is the most heavenly romantic deed,” I said. 
“ I am not worth It.” 

He kissed my hand and rubbed It against his 
cheek. 

“We might be living in the middle ages, people 
don’t do these wild, quixotic things now-a-days, for 
love,” said Meg. 

“ People don’t love each other enough,” said 
Antony. 

“Do you feel very 111?” I asked, “sit on this 
log, and lean against me.” 

“ I feel nothing but happiness when I am with 
you.” 


234 


THE ACCIDENT 


“What shall we say,” said Meg, “ I must tell 
Stranmore.” 

“ Please don’t,” said he quickly, “ I will bear the 
brunt of this deception. I have planned it very 
carefully, there are only three conspirators, myself, 
my servant and the old Doctor.” 

“Dr. Newton?” 

“ Yes, such an old sport. I tell you he’s a man 
in a thousand. He’s got old-fashioned Ideas, and 
was In love with his wife.” 

“ What do you want him to do, how did you get 
him?” 

“ I must have a Doctor, someone local, to say I 
can’t be moved, because I really think I could be 
moved to Cottenham — Of course they’ll send down 
a London man, when they hear, but I wanted some- 
one on my side, before he comes.” 

“ What did you tell him? ” I asked. 

“ I told him everything. He was rather difficult 
at first, but afterwards consented.” 

“ It all seems like a queer dream,” said Meg, 
“ but it’s so bold, and well thought out, and the 
prize Is love. That Is the reason why I’m going 
to help.” 

Voices sounded through the trees, and presently 
two of the gardeners from Stranmore appeared, 
carrying a chair, the butler followed with George. 
They hurried towards us. With great care they 

235 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


helped my man to his feet, and assisted him into the 
chair, and carried him through the woods, Meg, and 
I following. 

“ Go for Dr. Newton at once,” directed Meg to 
one of the men. 

There was a great commotion when we arrived 
at the house; maids peeped over the bannisters, 
heads were seen through the door leading to the 
servant’s part of the house. The housekeeper pre- 
ceded us up the stairs, to the blue room, where the 
bed had been opened and everything prepared. 
Meg and I went downstairs and left him to George 
while we waited for Dr. Newton. Tea was waiting. 

“ I can’t take any,” I said, walking up and down 
restlessly, “ people often die of quite simple wounds, 
I feel awful.” 

Meg came over. 

“ I don’t think your man will die,” she said, “ he 
has too much incentive too live, even if he were 
much more seriously injured than he is; except for 
looking a little pale, he is not in any danger, he 
seems quite as usual. Now dry your eyes, and don’t 
show everyone how much you love him.” 

She smiled, and going over to the tea table, be- 
gan to pour out tea. She was so calm, and sensible, 
as she sat there putting cream and sugar into the 
cups, that I became calm also and went and sat with 
her. 


236 


THE ACCIDENT 


“ Your man is here in this house. You are to- 
gether, at least for a time. Here is your tea.” 

It was not possible to grow morbid, or hysterical, 
with her eyes on me, and I felt very refreshed by 
the cup of tea. Meg rang the bell. 

“ Bentley, has his Lordship returned from 
York yet?” 

“ No, my lady.” 

“How is his Highness, has he had some tea?” 

“ I took up a tray, and his man is looking after 
him, he seems quite comfortable, my lady.” 

“ I see, let me know immediately when Dr. New- 
ton comes, and you’d better tell Saunders to have 
the car ready, in case he has to go and fetch any- 
thing for the Doctor.” 

“ Very good, my lady.” 

“ I wish Stranmore was back, I wonder what I 
ought to do.” 

“We ought to tell Captain Stuart and the 
Brindsleys.” 

“ Of course, how foolish I am. I’ll telephone.” 

She went over to the telephone, 

“ Put me on the Cottenham.” 

She covered the receiver. 

“ He can fume and fume,” she said, “ that old 
Stuart, but we have his Prince safely under our 
roof, and we can defy him. Hullo, hullo. Is that 
Cottenham? Can I speak to Lady Brindsley? 

237 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Lady Stranmore speaking. Very urgent — yes.” 

She turned her eyes to me. 

“ It will be a bomb — ” 

“ Hullo, is that you ? Margaret Stranmore speak- 
ing. Your Prince has had a shooting accident. He 
is here in my house. WeVe put him to bed and the 
Doctor’s coming. No, I hope not. Captain Stuart 
is out — Oh — Please tell him on his return — Do 
you expect him soon? I see. We’re doing all we 
can. His man is with him. Yes, certainly, if you 
like, I should be very glad of your advice. 
Good-bye.” 

‘‘ They’re coming over post haste, Stuart is out, 
went into the town to see about the journey to- 
morrow, I suppose. All this fuss about you,” she 
said laughing at me. “ Aren’t you important? ” 

“ There wouldn’t be a fuss if I was important,” I 
said, “ don’t you think I might go up and see An- 
tony, there’s nobody here, I ought to be with him.” 

“ Listen, there’s the car, it’s the Doctor.” 

Dr. Newton came hurrying in, he was an old 
friend of the Stranmore family. 

“ Dear, dear,” he said, “ what a business, I never 
thought I should attend a royal patient, where is 
he. I—” 

“ We know all,” said Meg. 

“ We ought all to be ashamed of ourselves,” said 
the old man, taking off his coat, “ I most of all — I 
238- 


THE ACCIDENT 


don’t know what made me do it, I’m a weak old 
fool.” 

“ I know what made you do it,” I said, “ the 
nicest reason in the world. You were in love once.” 

“ That’s true,” he said, “ that’s true.” 

And although you are a Doctor, you’re suffer- 
ing from a very unusual complaint, Romancitis.” 

He laughed. 

I mustn’t stand talking here, let me go up at 
once, please, it’s a great responsibility, a great re- 
sponsibility.” 

“ Come then,” said Meg. 

It looked dark, steely blue outside against the 
light flare of the big fire — A streak of red lay 
across the horizon like a smudge — I felt excited. 
Big things had begun to happen to me — I could not 
conjecture what his father would say — how Stuart 
would behave. The future was full of portent and 
extraordinary possibilities, perhaps great misery, 
but to-day was mine, nothing else mattered at all — 
Stranmore came hurrying in and behind him Bent- 
ley, who switched on the lights, dispelling my dreams 
of the dusk. 

“ What is all this I hear ? Where is Meg? How 
is the poor boy? I hope everything is being done ? ” 

“ The Doctor is here,” I said, “ Meg is up there 
waiting for news.” 

‘‘ I’d better go up.” 


239 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


He weat upstairs, and Bentley drew the curtains 
while the footman cleared the tea table. 

When they came down I saw that the news was 
not bad. 

“ He has a little fever, but the wound is a clean 
one.” 

“ I can’t think how he could have done it,” said 
Stranmore, “ he says he tripped over a large root, 
and stumbled, and the gun went off. Might have 
blown his head off.” 

Narrow escape,” said Dr. Newton, putting on his 
coat, “ thank goodness it’s no worse, I’ve sent your 
man for a few things. Lady Stranmore, and I think 
you ought to have a person of a more important 
position than mine to look after him.” 

“ Nonsense,” said Meg, “ you know you’re the 
cleverest doctor for miles,, and you never get any 
rest, what with people going out of the world, and 
people coming into it.” 

“ I do my best,” said the old man with a smile, 
“ at the same time, the responsibility is too* great 
under the circumstances.” 

With a great tooting, and noise, the Cottenham 
party arrived. Lady Brindsley in a great state of 
excitement. Lord Brindsley taking his eye glass out 
of his eye, and putting it in again nervously. 

“ My dear, what an unfortunate thing, what had 
we better do? Captain Stuart is still out, I don’t 
240 


THE ACCIDENT 


know whether to wire, or telephone to Prince 
George, or whether to wait for him to come back.” 

“ I advise telephoning at once,” said Lord 
Brindsley. 

“ It takes hours to get on to London,” said Lady 
Brindsley. 

“ Then the sooner we try to get on the better,” 
said His Lordship, ‘‘ after all he’s our guest, we are 
in a measure responsible for him.” 

“Is the poor boy conscious — oh. Dr. Newton, 
there you are, that’s all right then — Is it dangerous, 
will he die? What a pity it happened in our 
house.” 

“ It didn’t happen in our house,” said His Lord- 
ship, “ it happened in Stranmore’s wood, so that we 
are completely exonerated.” 

“ His Highness is going on quite satisfactorily at 
present, my lady,” said Dr. Newton, “ a little in- 
crease of temperature, but otherwise nothing ab- 
normal — However, I think His Lordship is right 
to telephone to his father, as I should wish to shift 
the responsibility as soon as possible, if you will 
allow me I’ll get on for you.” 

The others stood about in groups talking. 

“ What is the number of the Prince of Basle, no- 
body knows, I suppose?” 

“ I do,” said Lady Brindsley, “ ask for three 
Mayfair. Captain Stuart used to telephone every 
241 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 

evening, when Antony first arrived, to say how he 
was.” 

“Trunk. Three Mayfair,” said Dr. Newton, 
“how long delay? Twenty-five minutes, very well. 
I think I will be going now,” said the old man. 

“You ought to see Captain Stuart,” said Meg 
quickly. 

“ Then I will come back, I have, a few patients 
to see. I will be back in an hour.” 

“ That will do very nicely,” said Meg. 

The Doctor put on his old north country bowler, 
and muffling up his throat in a gray scarf, went out. 

“ Princes are so trying,” said Lady Brindsley, 
“it’s like having an important State document in 
the house, that someone wants to steal, or a valu- 
able piece of jewelry. They are so precious it’s ex- 
asperating. Not that the poor boy himself is a bit 
of trouble, but Captain Stuart is rather unnerving, 
and seems to think Antony ought never to be out of 
his sight. I’m sure I don’t know what he suspects 
him of, for a quieter boy there could not be.” 

“ These quiet boys,” said Lord Brindsley, polish- 
ing his eye glass, “ are sometimes rather deep — It 
never seems to occur to people that those who are 
quiet about the ordinary events of life, are possibly 
also quiet, about other things! ” 

“You are being enigmatic,” said Lady Brindsley, 
“ and this is not quite the moment, for I am too 
242 


THE ACCIDENT 


worried to attempt to unravel what you mean. Re- 
member you are not now in the House of Lords, 
you may speak plainly.” 

His Lordship smiled a little. 

“ May I speak plainly, Miss Elizabeth? ” he said, 
looking at me. 

“Why do you appeal to Elizabeth? ” said Meg. 

“ I thought she might know something,” he said. 
I also looked at him. 

“ I don’t know what you mean, Lord Brindsley.” 

“No?” said Lord Brindsley, “then I may be 
mistaken.” 

“ I don’t like Captain Stuart, if that’s what you 
mean,” I said, “ he is a horrid little man, always 
creeping about and spying.” 

“ You’ve noticed that? ” said Lady Brindsley, 
turning to me, “ I didn’t know you ever saw him.” 

I got rather red. 

“ I saw him when he dined here,” I said quickly, 
“ he seemed to follow Prince Antony about like a 
detective.” 

“You are very observant. Miss Elizabeth,” said 
Lord Brindsley, “ Lady Stranmore, will you allow 
me to smoke ? ” 

“ Please do,” said Meg. 

“ ril have a cigarette, too,” said Lady Brindsley. 

The telephone bell rang, Stranmore answered it. 

“Hello, Yes — is that the Prince of Basle’s 

243 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


house — Lord Stranmore speaking — Prince An- 
tony has had an accident while shooting — I wish to 
inform Prince George that his son is In my house — 
not In any danger at present — we have called In the 
local Doctor and his condition is satisfactory — Yes 

— I would like to speak to the Prince If he would 
kindly come to the telephone — I will hold on (It’s 
the Secretary speaking, the Prince Is in, he’s gone to 
fetch him) Yes, sir? Stranmore — quite satisfac- 
tory — but thought It best to inform you — Dr. 
Newton, our own man — of course as you wish, sir 

— I can put him up and a nurse — right, they’ve 
missed the last train I’m afraid, that one arrives in 
the early morning — very well, sir — thank you — 
good-bye.” 

“ He seems very concerned, and Is sending down 
their own doctor and a nurse.” 

“ What a worry,” said Lady Brindsley, “ can we 
be of any use now? ” 

“ I can arrange everything, thank you, dear. Lady 
Brindsley,” said Meg. 

“ You may have to put up Captain Stuart.” 

“ I regret I shall not have room,” said Meg 
firmly, “we can send the car backwards and for- 
wards at his orders, but I will not have him in my 
house.” 

“ I think perhaps you’re right,” said Lady 
Brindsley, “we brought some things; his dressing 
244 


THE ACCIDENT 


case, and a bag full of underthings, his man can 
fetch the rest any time.” 

“ Won’t yo>u stay and dine? ” said Meg. 

“ I really don’t think so,” said Lady Brindsley, 
“ I think we had better be going. Aunt Agnes is 
still with us, and you know what aunts are. She 
will want to know everything. Come, Stephen.” 

Lord Brindsley got up out of his comfortable 
chair and reluctantly took up his cap. 

“ We’ll send Stuart on at once,” he said, “ we left 
a message for him to come on. Good-night, my 
lady. Why don’t you go up and nurse the invalid,” 
he said to me softly, as he shook hands. 

“I_go up?” 

“ That’s what he would like, I believe,” said he 
with a twinkle. 

“ I don’t understand,” I faltered. 

“ I understand,” said his Lordship, putting his 
eyeglass into his eye with Infinite care, “ I under- 
stand,” he repeated. And patted me on the shoul- 
der, with a whimsical look, and followed his wife. 

“ These quiet men ” he had said, he was one of 
them himself. Who would have thought that he 
noticed anything. He always seemed to be fiddling 
with his eyeglass, whilst he really saw too much and 
did not require an eyeglass at all. 

When they had gone, I left Meg and Stranmore, 
and ran up the corridor leading to Antony’s rooms. 

245 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


The door was ajar which led to the little suite — A 
light dimly burning, and George moving softly 
about. He saw me and came to me. 

“ How is hiis Highness, asleep? ” 

“ No, miss, asking for you, he was just now.” 

“ Do you think I might come in just for a 
minute? ” 

“ Indeed, you might. It would do him good to see 
you.” 

The fire was burning red on the hearth; there was 
a light by the huge four poster bed, with a blue silk 
shade. He lay on his back propped with pillows, his 
head turned away from the door. He heard me 
come In, and turned his head. His eyes lighted up. 

“ My beloved Perdita, at last you have come. 
How did you escape away from convention? ” 

“ I just slipped away. May I sit with you for two 
minutes? ” 

“ Give me your hand, I want to kiss it, and lay 
my cheek against it.” 

I sat on a chair near by, and George busied him- 
self at the other end of the large room. 

“ I am with you, I can see you, I can hear your 
voice, I can touch your hand. It’s well worth it.” 

“ How could you do such a big deed? ” I said. 

“ For love and you,” he whispered. Is Stuart 
here? ” 

“No, he doesn’t even know yet, he’s out.” 

246 


THE ACCIDENT 


“ Thank God, I’m free for a few hours.” 

“We told your father on the telephone, he’s 
sending a nurse and Doctor.” 

“ Damn,” said Antony, “ not that it matters, it’s 
all in the plan I suppose. Is my father coming, 
too? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ Well, if he comes, he shall rid me of Stuart. I 
won’t have him in this room. I won’t have him 
about me.” 

He turned his head from side to side. 

“ George.” 

“ Your Highness.” 

“ Remember, I may have to see Captain Stuart 
for a minute or two, but please don’t let him stay, 
you can easily say the Doctor wishes me to be quiet. 
You understand?” 

“Yes, Your Highness. I shall be pleased to 
keep the gentleman out.” 

“ I am making you worry,” I said, getting up, 
“ I’d better go.” 

“ Not yet, Perdita, don’t put out the light.” 

“ I wasn’t going to put out the light,” I said, 
“ I’ll leave it on.” 

“ You are the light.” 

“ You meant me? ” 

“ I meant you.” 

I sat down again — holding my hand the Prince 
247 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 

fell asleep — Meg came to the door softly. 

“ Elizabeth, come down, Captain Stuart is here.” 

I tip-toed to the door, closing it gently. 

“ He’s downstairs, very agitated, I knew you 
were with Antony. I didn’t want him to find you, 
so I said I’d run up and see if he was able to see 
anyone.” 

We went down together. Captain Stuart was 
pacing up and down the hall, he looked very angry, 
and also anxious. 

“ This is a calamity,” he said, “ I can’t say how 
anxious I feel, it is most unfortunate.” 

“ It is very fortunate my house was near,” said 
Meg. 

He made no reply. 

“ Can I see the Prince?” 

“ I believe he is asleep,” said Meg, “ I was not 
allowed in.” 

“ I will go up at once and see,” he said, “ if some- 
one will show me the way.” 

I stepped forward but Meg interposed. 

“ I will go with you,” she said. 

He stayed to dinner, conversation was rather 
strained. He was polite but reserved. Stranmore 
did his best, and so did Meg. I did not want to 
talk. When I looked up, I often found his eyes 
fixed on me. 


248 


THE ACCIDENT 


“You will remain until the Doctor and nurse 
arrive from London, Captain Stuart? ” 

“ Er — thank you, yes.” 

“ Will you have a cigar? ” 

“ Er — thanks.” 

Meg rose, we went out together, leaving the men. 

“ It’s ridiculous for Captain Stuart to treat you 
as if you were a designing hussey,” said Meg, “ you 
didn’t know Antony was a Prince.” 

“ Captain Stuart doesn’t know I didn’t, I think I 
shall tell him if I get an opportunity.” 

“ It won’t make much difference,” said Meg. 

“ I suppose he has to be like that, as he’s a sort 
of policeman.” 

“ Not half so nice as a policeman,” said Meg. 

“ He looks to me as if he had eaten a poker, and 
couldn’t get his head quite above the last little piece 
of it.” 

Meg laughed. 

“ It’s rather a good description,” she said, “ how 
was Antony when you went in this evening? ” 

“ Not very bad I think — So glad to see me. He 
fell asleep holding my hand. I wonder if his father 
will come down. I — ” 

Just then Stranmore and Captain Stuart came in. 

“Margaret, my dear,” said Stranmore, “come 
to the library with me. Captain Stuart wishes to 
speak to Elizabeth.” 


249 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Meg got up and, slipping her arm through his, 
went out of the room. Captain Stuart walked over 
to the fireplace and stood facing me where I sat. 

“ What do you want to say to me ? 

“ How long have you known Prince Antony? ” 

“ Three weeks.” 

“ Had you met before? ” 

“ No, not exactly.” 

“ What do you mean — exactly? ” 

“ I mean I saw him at the Coliseum about two 
months ago.” 

“ And he saw you. I remember. Did you know 
his position? ” 

“How could I?” 

“You might have seen his photograph in the 
papers on different occasions.” 

“ I haven’t.” 

“You know how serious it is, when a Prince 
wishes to marry a lady who is not of some impor- 
tant family.” 

“ I didn’t know till lately.” 

“ It is not only serious, it is impossible, utterly 
impossible.” 

“ I heard you the first time.” 

“ I cannot imprests it upon you sufficiently. In the 
ordinary course he would have been sent away im- 
mediately.” 

“I know.” 


250 


THE ACCIDENT 


“ This accident will oblige him to remain here 
under the same roof.” 

“ Fm glad,” I said defiantly. 

“ I do not doubt it, Miss Sutherland. You should 
in all good taste go away from this house, as he 
cannot go away from you, because you know I sup- 
pose, or probably you do not know, that when a 
royal Prince is in a house, the host places that house 
at the Prince’s disposal.” 

“ I don’t see how I could know any of those 
things, but what I do know is, your Prince has asked 
me to marry him, and as I love him, I have con- 
sented. I am his fiancee, and I have a right to be 
with him.” 

“ Of course, if you take that view there is no 
more to be said. Later, perhaps, you will be per- 
suaded to listen to reason.” 

“ My father is always telling me to listen to 
reason,” I said. “ It generally means listen to some- 
thing worldly.” 

“ Worldly,” said he with a slight sneer, “ I do 
not think you should accuse your father of being 
worldly.” 

“What do you mean. Captain Stuart?” 

“ The greatest possible worldly construction must 
be put on your present behavior. If you really were 
as unworldly as you pretend to be, you would 
leave the house, and so avoid all further trouble. 

251 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


Do this by returning to your parents in London.” 

“ You have no right to say these things to me.” 

I got up. 

“ I consider you are exceeding your duty to the 
Prince. I think you hate me.” 

“ I do not hate you, I do not know you, and it 
is not for you and I to quarrel, we are discussing 
a purely business matter.” 

“ Pm glad Prince Antony doesn’t like you,” I 
said rather cruelly, “ you may have a row of nice 
ancestors, but you seem to me very ungentle in your 
manners, and at any rate you are lacking in tact.” 

“ This is not a moment for tact, this is a moment 
for fact.” 

“ You have no sympathy, you are like a stone 
figure without a heart, I shall not stay In the room 
with you. You make even the fire seem cold.” 

I went out of the room to the library. Meg was 
sitting on a stool by the fire at Stranmore’s feet. 
The lamp shone on them both, his face looked 
grave. He held out his hand as I came in. 

“My dear,” he said, “Meg has told me; I did 
not suspect such a thing.” 

I sat down on the leather couch. 

“ That horrible man has been calling me worldly, 
and says Pm running after Antony because he is a 
Prince.” 

“That was unnecessary,” said Stranmore, “I 
252 


THE ACCIDENT 


should not have thought a man of his position 
would be rude to a lady; I am sorry/’ 

“ Never mind what he says, darling, he is furious 
because Anto-ny does not like him, amongst other 
things.” 

“At the same time, my dear Elizabeth,” said 
Stranmore, “ the situation Is a very delicate one. I 
shall have to know more, before I can possibly 
advise you. I can only point out, that though Prince 
Antony Is only related distantly to the Royal family, 
he would not be allowed to marry a commoner.” 

“ He says he will marry me,” I said In a low 
voice. 

“ Then I’m afraid we’re all going to have a great 
deal of trouble, my dears,” said Stranmore. 

“Can’t they make exceptions?” said Meg, 
“ surely one wouldn’t matter.” 

“ I’m afraid not,” he said, shaking his head, 
“ unless — ” 

“Yes,” I said eagerly, “yes, what?” 

“ I was going to say, I read of a case the other 
day, I believe It happened a little while ago abroad, 
a Prince of the blood gave up his titles and position, 
and married the lady of his choice.” 

“ Then there Is hope,” said Meg excitedly, ‘‘ a 
little streak of light showing through the curtains.” 

Stranmore got up and walked about the room. 

“ Such a problem has never been presented to me, 

253 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


I must consult someone who knows more about it 
than I do.” 

He stopped and looked down on me. 

“ Has this been going on for long? ” 

“ Three weeks.” 

“ Tell him all about it,” said Meg. 

And I told him from the beginning, the chain of 
circumstances which had led up to my meeting 
Antony. 

“ It is an extraordinary story,” he said, “ he 
seems to be meant for you, but unfortunately, ro- 
mantic as it may seem, the only side we are allowed 
to consider is the practical side. I feel sure you 
ought to weigh things very carefully, and if you 
can, I think you should try to forget him.” 

“That is impossible.” 

“ Don’t say that,” said Meg, “ something may 
be arranged, one never knows. Nothing can be 
done for the present and the future can take care 
of itself. I think you had better go up to bed. I’ll 
let you know when the doctor and nurse arrive. I 
shall put on a dressing gown, and lie on the couch 
in my room.” 

“iVery well,” I said, and left them — I lay on 
my bed watching the firelight dance on the ceiling, 
trying to read but unable to, and after a long, long 
interval, I must have dozed a little for I woke with 
a start, hearing the sound of a motor outside. I 

254 


THE ACCIDENT 


peeped out, and saw a nurse and evidently the doctor 
pass along the side of the big stairway, and 
presently Meg came in. 

“Well?’’ I said. 

“ The London doctor says Antony is not so very 
bad, but he does not seem to understand why, if the 
gun went off accidentally, he was not much more 
severely injured. He seems to think he is all right, 
but must be kept quiet as the wound is rather near 
the lung.” 

I started up. “He won’t die?” I said. 

“ No, no,” said Meg, “ only I hope he doesn’t 
suspect anything about how It happened. He seems 
a very nice old man, the nurse is elderly, too, and 
looks rather a dear. He brought a letter for Cap- 
tain Stuart from Prince George, and one for 
Stranmore. I read that one, and it is thanking 
Stranmore for his kindness to Antony, and saying 
he would come down early to-morrow by motor.” 

“ Oh, dear, then there will be a scene,” I said. 

“ There can’t be a scene when Antony’s so ill,” 
said Meg. “ Come, be sensible. When he’s better, 
though,” she added, “ I expect there’ll be a bit of 
a fuss.” 

A knock at the door interrupted us, and Rose, 
Diana’s old maid, came In with some biscuits and a 
decanter of sherry. 

“ I thought we might have a little orgy after our 

255 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


troubles,” said Meg, and poured out two glasses. 
“ Now drink this, he is in no danger, and you may 
as well get some sleep. We’d better go to bed now. 
I’m most awfully sleepy.” 

“ It is like one of the Knights of the Round 
Table, isn’t it, Meg?” 

‘‘ It’s very unlike the Knights of to-day,” said 
Meg, “ they only get knighted because they make 
rather better jam or soap than other people. Good- 
night, don’t worry.” 

She closed the door softly. I slept fitfully, and 
kept starting up, and sleeping again, until the 
morning. 

The next day, the doctor and nurse had orders 
from Captain Stuart, that I was not to see Antony, 
but he asked for me so persistently, that at last I 
went in, just before luncheon. He looked flushed, 
his eyes were very bright. 

“ I can’t bear being watched over all the time,” 
he said, “ come and sit down, Perdita. You are a 
vision of beauty.” 

“ I may only stay five minutes,” I said. 

“ I shan’t let you go. I hate middle-aged people. 
They’re all prosaic and ordinary. None of them 
ever seem to have been young. Very few of them 
are sympathetic. Well,” he lowered his voice as a 
nurse was sitting in the adjoining room, “ we’ve 
done something towards the end.” 

256 


THE ACCIDENT 


“We have,” I said, “ your father’s coming down 
to-day.” 

“ So much the better. I have one or two things 
to tell him.” 

“ Will it be any use, all this? ” 

“ Don’t you like to see me, Perdita? Don’t you 
love me? ” 

“ You know I do.” 

“Then it is well worth it, isn’t it?” He kissed 
my hand. 

“ Oh, do be careful, the nurse will see.” 

“ What if she does, we’re engaged.” 

“ Are we ? ” I sighed. 

“ I’ll kiss you in a minute. If you’re not more 
cheerful, and compromise you forever. I’m so 
thirsty, give me some of that soda and milk, there’s 
a darling.” 

The nurse, hearing the syphon, came In. “ Can 
I do anything?” she said. 

“ No, thank you,” said Antony, “ I’m being well 
looked after.” He smiled, and the nurse smiled, 
too. 

“ Very well. Your Highness,” she said, and went 
back Into the other room. 

“ Barbed wire entanglements,” muttered Antony, 
“ barricades.” 

I put the glass down for him. 

“Are you sure you feel all right?” I asked 
257 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


anxiously, noticing his flushed face and restless eyes. 

“ I’m a bit hot, you know.” 

The doctor came in. 

“You must go away now. Miss Sutherland,” he 
said. 

“ I shan’t let her go unless I can have her back 
when I want her,” said Antony in rather an excited 
way, holding on to my hand. 

“ That’s all right,” said Sir William soothingly, 
“ she shall come again, but you must have a rest now 
and perhaps you could take a little luncheon.” 

“ I don’t want to eat anything,” said Antony 
peevishly, “ I’m not hungry.” 

“Au revoir,” I said as I went to the door, “ I’m 
coming again soon.” 

“ Don’t you let them ke^p you out of here,” he 
called after me. 

“ She shall come when you ask for her,” said Sir 
William. Just as I went out, I heard him say to the 
nurse, “ I should like you to take His Highness’ 
temperature.” 

At three o’clock. Prince George of Basle arrived, 
accompanied by Colonel Veraker. He was a big 
broad shouldered man, very upright, with a gray 
beard, gray hair, beetling black brows, and piercing 
black eyes, which looked from under them rather 
fiercely. He went up to Antony’s room immediately 
he arrived, accompanied by Stranmore, and re- 
258 


THE ACCIDENT 


mained there for some time. At four-thirty, tea 
was served in the big drawing-room, and he came 
downstairs with his gentleman, and took tea with 
us. Colonel Veraker was very unlike Captain 
Stuart. He had a very pleasing voice, and agree- 
able smile, and his manners were courteous and 
charming. After tea the Prince asked me to come 
and talk to him, and show him the pictures. As we 
walked down the long gallery, he paused before one 
of the pictures of a very beautiful Lady Stranmore 
and, instead of looking at it, looked down on me 
from his great height. 

“ My son has told me he is in love with you.” 

“ Yes, sir,” I said. 

“ He shows very good taste, but alas, my son is 
too young to marry, and, also we have other plans 
for him.” 

“Did you tell him that, sir?” I asked. 

“ I did.” 

“ Is it impertinent to ask you what he said? ” 

He waived the question. 

“ The boy is ill now, I shall not take much notice 
of what he says.” 

“ I didn’t know he was a Prince, I cannot help 
loving him.” 

“ Youth soon forgets,” said the Prince, and be- 
lieved what he said. 

“ I shall not forget.” 


259 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ Then you will probably have a very unhappy 
life, because you would not be allowed to marry 
him.’* 

“ I will not marry anyone else.” 

“ I regret to hurt your feelings. Tm sorry you 
ever met my son, but I am sure you will believe me 
when I tell you, this thing cannot be. It is final.” 

I bent my head. 

“We need not discuss it further, then,” I said. 
“ Have I your permission to retire? ” 

He bowed and smiled a little. 

“ It is getting very dark. Am I to be left alone 
in this ghostly gallery? ” 

I looked at him. “You do not believe in spirits 
or ghosts. Prince,” I said, “ only romantic people 
do that.” 

I made a bob and left him to find his way back to 
the salon. 

The Prince decided to stay until the following 
day, and I heard to my great joy, that when he re- 
turned, Captain Stuart would return with him and 
Colonel Veraker would stay with Antony. 

Our love had now emerged from its first mystic, 
and shadowy beauty, and become a matter of com- 
mon discussion, a theme for controversy and a cause 
of disturbance. I felt, if I had been the heroine of 
a play, I should then and there have left the house, 
and sacrificed myself to save future trouble, but I 
260 


THE ACCIDENT 


knew that his life and mine were so closely entwined, 
he would die if I went away. He was meant for me 
from all time — I could not separate myself from 
him any more than I could, in cold blood, cut off 
my right hand, yet I hated this wonderful precious 
gift of love being dragged into the glaring light of 
parental discussion. It was like uncovering a sacred 
relic to an unbeliever. 

“ Why did you leave Prince George in the picture 
gallery, darling. It wasn’t very polite.” 

“ He doesn’t like me, he disapproved of me, he 
won’t help me. It will certainly make no difference 
to my future, so why should I trouble about him? ” 

“ Of course you are dreadfully worried and I’m 
so sorry, only you shouldn’t have done that. He 
didn’t really mind. He laughed, and told Stran- 
more you were very unused to Court manners.” 

“And I’m not likely to have an opportunity of 
getting more used to them,” I said, “ so that’s that, 
and I would rather have dinner in my room than 
meet all those heartless old people again.” 

“ Very well, dear. I’ll send it up, and come and 
sit with you after.” 

I sat in front of the fire, a prey to the most 
melancholy thoughts, and I remembered Meg’s 
words of a few days back, “ it’s almost quieter not 
being in love.” 

About ten o’clock Meg came in. She looked 
261 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


rather disturbed. “Arftony has a rather high tem- 
perature,” she said, “ and Sir William is anxious 
for you to go in. He does nothing but call for you.” 

I got up quickly and put on my dressing gown. 

“ Oh, Meg, is he very bad? ” 

“ I don’t know, I don’t see how he could be. Dr. 
Newton said the wound was quite a clean one. Per- 
haps if he sees you he will rest. They can’t get him 
to do anything, he calls and calls for you all the 
time.” 

My heart was beating fearfully as we went along 
the corridor. 

“ Could a man die of a wound like that? ” 

Sir William was sitting by the bed, and the nurse 
standing near. 

“ Where is Perdita, can’t you find her, have they 
sent her away?” His voice was weak, he turned 
his head from side to side. 

“ No, no, we have sent for her.” 

“ You say that — but she doesn’t come.” 

Antony,” I said, “Antony.” 

Sir William rose and motioned me to sit down in 
his chair. 

“Where have you been, why didn’t you come, 
my Perdita ? I must have you near me.” 

I sat down and took his hand in mine. 

Sir William moved away, beckoning the nurse to 
follow. 


262 


THE ACCIDENT 


“ rm glad I did it,” whispered Antony feverishly, 
“ they can’t separate us now, can they? ” 

“ No, no, they cannot.” 

“ I fixed it very well, didn’t I? Poor old George, 
he’s awfully cut up.” 

“ We are all upset, Antony.” 

“ I keep on imagining I am in the train, on my 
way to Paris, going farther and farther away from 
you.” 

“ You are not in the train, you are with me at 
Stranmore, where we first met. Now try to sleep, 
and ril stay with you.” 

He closed his eyes. 

“ Pm so hot, it’s a bit painful this thing, hurts 
when I breathe a bit, you know.” 

I felt dreadfully uneasy, his hand was so hot and 
clutched at mine now and then convulsively. I sat 
very still, the light was dim. The nurse had put a 
little kettle on the fire, where it sang in a homely 
way, and the clock on the mantelpiece ticked slowly. 
I heard the doctor and nurse whispering together in 
the adjoining room. Now and then Antony started 
and opened his eyes. 

“ Don’t let them take you away,” he said. 

“ No, I will stay.” 

‘‘They’ll do it if they can — I know them.” 

“ I won’t let them.” 

“ I only feel at peace when you are here.” 

263 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


He lay back again on his pillows. A spot of 
crimson burnt in his cheeks. His eyes looked a little 
sunken, his bright hair disordered with his restless 
turnings. An hour passed. He seemed to sleep. I 
noticed his breathing was rather difficult. I disen- 
gaged my hand from his, and got up. The chair 
creaked a little, I stood still, fearful lest it should 
disturb him, but he did not move. I went into the 
other room, where his father, the doctor, and nurse 
were sitting. The doctor offered me his chair, and 
the nurse took up her vigil in Antonyms room. 

“ He is asleep,’’ I said, “ but his breathing sounds 
heavy, difficult.” 

“ I’m afraid that may be,” said Sir William. 

“Why?” I said nervously. “Is there any 
reason? ” 

“ I’m sorry to say the right lung is slightly 
affected.” 

I felt myself go pale. “ Is it dangerous? ” 

“ It is sufficiently serious.” 

The Prince of Basle looked at me. 

“ It Is sufficiently serious for me to allow you lo- 
go to him,” he said. 

I turned away with a sob. So this was the end 
of It all, only a few weeks, and then perhaps the 
longest of all separations. 

“You need not fear,” said Sir William, “ I have 
every hope that we shall pull His Highness through.”* 
264 


THE ACCIDENT 


Colonel Veraker came in softly. 

“ I have telephoned for another nurse,’' he said, 
she will arrive by the first train to-morrow morn- 
ing. How is he?” 

“ His temperature is going up, but he is sleeping 
now.” 

“ I think your Royal Highness, indeed, everyone, 
ought to take a little rest, we cannot do any more at 
present, we may want you here a good deal to-mor- 
row, Miss Sutherland, so you must get all the sleep 
you can to-night.” 

“ Very well, I will leave my door open, and nurse 
can fetch me. Good-night, sir,” I said to Antony’s 
father. 

Colonel Veraker followed me out. 

Please forgive me,” he said in a rather hesitat- 
ing way, “ but I am so sorry about it all. I think I 
understand.” 

I looked at him quickly. 

“ I am your friend,” he said. “ I have known the 
boy since he was a baby. Anything I can do to con- 
tribute to his happiness, I will do.” 

I put my hand in his. My eyes were full of tears. 
I could hardly speak. 

“ You are kind,” I finally said. 

I left him looking after me with a sympathetic 
expression on his face. 

Meg was sitting in the arm chair in my room. I 
265 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


shut the door and sat down on the chintz covered 
couch. 

“ I waited for you,” she said, “ I couldn’t sleep. 
There were so many people in the room, I came 
away. What is the latest? ” 

“ He is very ill, they let me go in because of that. 
Meg, is this the end of everything? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 

‘‘ I had rather he was alive, even though we were 
separated. Oh Meg, what shall I do if he dies?” 

“ I don’t believe he will die,” said Meg, stoutly, 
** God will preserve him for you. He must adore 
to see two people really and truly in love, the way 
he meant people to love.” 

Just as I came out of Antony’s room. Colonel 
Veraker followed me out, and told me he was my 
friend. He is a good man and would help us if he 
could.” 

“ It is something to have a friend at Court,” said 
Meg, “isn’t it?” 

“ I suppose so — Don’t you hate nights, they are 
so long, and dark, and full of forebodings, and 
queer noises you don’t hear in the day.” 

“ That’s because you’re unhappy, everything is 
exaggerated. Come, lie down on your bed.” 

“ I’d rather stay here. If I go to bed I shall 
think, and think, and think.” 

“ Very well. I’ll stay with you. You won’t be so 
266 


THE ACCIDENT 


lonely, then. I’ll put this over you. Try to sleep.” 

She took the eiderdown off the bed and covered 
me with it. 

“ I’ll sit in this chair by the fire.” 

“ There’s a rug in the bottom drawer of the 
wardrobe, put it over your feet.” 

She found it, and tucking herself up lay back on 
the cushions. 

Presently I heard her breathing softly and regu- 
larly, and knew she was asleep, but I did not sleep. 
The red glow of the fire grew dim on the ceiling, 
now and then an ember dropped on the hearth, with 
a little soft thud. I saw the thread of light pencilled 
between the curtains — I heard the chirp of a bird, 
the soft rustle of the wind of dawn. . . . 

And the next day Antony was worse. Another 
doctor was sent for from London. His father be- 
came different, there was a hush over the house, 
everyone went about with a grave face. As for me I 
felt as if the whole world was slipping away. People 
moved about me like shadows. Meg kept with me, 
but even she seemed different. I heard her speak, 
and answered her, but I did not feel anything. It 
was as if a sort of veil had come between me and 
other people. All I saw was Antony lying in bed, 
breathing with difficulty, his eyes shut, asking for me 
now and then in a weak hoarse voice and muttering 
words about parting. “ I will not go to Paris,” he 
267 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


said wildly as I sat by his side, “ they shall not sep- 
arate us.” All through the long day I sat with 
him, for he would not be comforted without me. 
Towards evening, he seemed a trifle easier. He 
asked for his father, who came in and leant over 
him. 

“Are you a little easier, my son? ” he said gently, 
all his stiff manner gone. 

Antony spoke with some difficulty. 

“ I may die. Isn’t It so? ” he asked. 

“ No, no, do not speak of that.” 

“ But it is so, let us be honest. I must tell you 
something.” 

“ Do not exert yourself to tell me, for I under- 
stand all.” 

“You do not understand quite all. I shot 
myself.” 

“ What do you mean? ” 

“ I shot myself for love of Elizabeth. I could 
not bear to be taken from her. You were sending 
me away.” 

“ This is dreadful for me to hear.” 

“ I am madly in love with Elizabeth. I do not 
care to live without her, therefore I must die; it is 
far better for me to die than to be separated from 
her.” 

“Oh, my son, how could you do such a thing I 
Could we not have discussed . . .” 

268 


THE ACCIDENT 


“ I was being sent to Paris, I should not perhaps 
have seen you. I want to marry Elizabeth 
Sutherland.” 

“ Do not ask that.” 

“ I want to marry her. If I am finished does it 
matter? ” 

“ How can I refuse you anything. You have me 
at a terrible disadvantage ” said his father in a low 
voice. 

Antony went on in an exhausted way. “ I must 
make her my wife, I must fulfill my destiny, and 
hers. If I live, God is on our side, if I die it will 
save trouble for everyone.” 

“ As you wish, Antony.” 

Then I knew he was dying, for only death could 
have been the High Priest of such a marriage in the 
eyes of Antony’s father. He came into the other 
room to us all. 

“ Colonel Verakcr, my son desires to marry this 
lady, send for a priest.” 

Colonel Veraker bowed and went out of the 
room. 

‘‘ Go back to my son,” said Prince George, “ he 
needs you.” 

I went softly back, and took up my place by his 
side. I laid my head against his hand, so that he 
would not see my face. 

When night fell over the moorland, I was mar^ 
269 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 

ried to Antony. I shall never forget that strange 
ceremony. He had made me set up an altar near 
his bed, a table with a white lace cloth — George 
carried the silver crucifix from the chapel, and we 
put it on this table ; on either side were silver candle- 
sticks, in front a bowl of white gardenias from the 
hot house. He wanted me to wear white, and I put 
on a white dress, and a white lace veil, belonging 
to one of the Ladies Stranmore — He had a fancy 
for me to wear it — The light from the tall candles 
illumined the room, no other light except the fire. 
Stranmore’s chaplain officiated. Prince George, 
Meg, Stranmore, Colonel Veraker and Captain 
Stuart stood ’round the bed. In the background 
stood the doctors and nurses, and poor George, his 
head bent, his eyes on the ground. The scent of the 
gardenias was like incense. I saw the face of my 
lover and I saw nothing else. I heard the voice of 
the chaplain, solemn, slow, speaking those powerful, 
awful words, words which bind two human beings 
together for all time; exquisite In the ears of 
lovers, dreadful in the ears of those who do not 
love. 

“Will thou, Antony George John . . . take 
Elizabeth Mary ... to have and to hold in 
sickness and in health, for richer for poorer . . . 
and keep thee only unto her as long as ye both shall 
live.” 


270 


THE ACCIDENT 


I heard one of the nurses give a stifled sob, and 
quite suddenly in a flash, the words stabbed me to 
the heart. “As long as ye both shall live ” — how 
long would he live? I remember saying, “ I will” 
and then a blackness. Meg sprang forward. • . • 


CHAPTER XII 


“and they all lived happily ever after” 

Then a miracle happened; for, as our Lord was 
once present at a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and 
turned the water into wine, so He was surely present 
at our wedding, and touching the water of life, 
which was fast ebbing away, he turned it into the 
rich red wine of life and Antony lived — 

“ I told you God likes a love story,” said Meg. 

Antony grew stronger day by day and as he grew 
stronger so did his father find himself in a very 
awkward predicament. Though he rejoiced in his 
son’s return to health and strength, he knew he was 
returning, not only to health and strength, but to a 
wife, and to all the difficulties and pitfalls of a 
worldly disadvantage. About a fortnight after the 
wedding Colonel Veraker sat in the library talking 
to Meg, Stranmore and me. 

“ Here,” he said, “ we have on our hands, not 
only a Prince returning to life, but a perfectly sound, 
; healthy and charming Princess as well.” 

He twinkled his eyes and nodded at me, 

“ That is the situation.” 

272, 


“AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER" 

“ What is to be done,” said Stranmore, “ what 
do you suggest? ” 

“ There are two courses open,” said Colonel 
Veraker, “ one is for Prince George to strike out 
a line of his own, and permit his son, after certain 
undertakings of course, to marry a commoner. 
After all, these are democratic days.” 

“ And the other? ” asked Stranmore. 

“ The other is, for Prince Antony himself, 
to give up his title and position, become an 
ordinary country gentleman, and live happily ever 
afterwards.” 

“ That would be the best of all,” I said. 

“You see the marriage, as it stands, could be 
annulled,” said Colonel Veraker. 

“ Could it? ” I said fearfully. 

“Yes,” said Stranmore, “I am afraid that is 
true.” 

“ Then it will be annulled,” I said with conviction. 

“ I am not so sure,” said Colonel Veraker, “ for 
we still have a very obstinate youth to deal with, 
who might shoot us all next time.” 

We all laughed. 

“ Princes cannot go against ancient customs, and 
important personages; they cannot overthrow all 
the rules of their order, but I think, as a form of 
marriage has been gone through, we might have a 
conference, at which important personages would 

273 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


be present, and see whether we cannot conform to 
the rules in a certain measure, and make two people 
happy at the same time.*’ 

Meg smiled at him. “ It’s a pretty compliment,” 
she said. 

“To come back to earth, and our father, what do 
you advise ? ’ 

“ I think I will write a little note, and say I wish 
to see him,” said Stranmore. “ I could talk to him, 
and there need not be a long explanatory group of 
letters, which might get left about.” 

“ That would be the best way,” said Colonel 
Veraker, “ I will leave it to your tact, and 
diplomacy, to explain about the form of marriage 
which took place, and perhaps you will suggest to 
him, it might injure his daughter’s reputation, and 
prejudice her position with important people, if any- 
thing got about. I feel sure. Prince George will 
approve of your going in person,” and so It was 
settled. 

Two days later Stranmore went to London. 

Antony was allowed to sit up In his room, and I 
had tea with him, while the nurse went for a walk. 
The sun poured in on us, the sky was red. Outside 
the wind rushed past in strong gusts, and shook the 
fir trees down the hill. Antony sat propped up with 
pillows, looking pale, but happy. 

“We’re married,” he said. 

274 


*‘AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER” 

“ Sort of,” said 1. 

“ Quite utterly, irretrievably.” He smiled. 

“ Sugar? ” I asked, making his tea, 

“ Two lumps.” 

“ Cream?” 

“ Lots.” 

“A kiss?” I said, handing him his cup. 

“ Please. Two or three, or — ” 

“ One at a time. Nobody would have dreamed 
of this, would they? ” I said. 

“ I often dreamed of it.” 

“ Do you know that dad is being told about us 
this very minute, and I believe he will puff himself 
out so huge, that he will burst, like that frog.” 

“What’s he like?” asked Antony, curiously. 

“ Not a bit like us,” I said, “ awfully pompous, 
and rather religious.” 

“ Religious ? ” 

“ Yes, not good you know, but religious.” ^ 

“ I know.” 

“ And very quick at making use of people, and 
very generous and hospitable, and very good at 
talking hind legs off donkeys, in fact, a great 
orator — He had ideals once, but nobody believed 
in them, and at last he didn’t himself. Just like — 
let me think — Suppose I saw a star, far up in the 
sky, and thousands of people came and stood near 
me, looking up, too, and I told them to look at that 
275 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


wonderful star, and everyone said, ‘ There isn’t a 
star.’ It would be rather difficult to believe there 
was. That’s how it is with ideals.” 

“ I have seen a star.” 

“We have both seen it, not only a star, but the 
sun and the moon, and all the glory of the heavens, 
and the beauty of the earth, like in the Psalm, do 
you remember, ‘ Oh, all ye works of the Lord, Bless 
ye the Lord, Praise Him and magnify Him for- 
ever.’ ” 

“ I love your mind, Perdita. I like to bathe my 
soul in the refreshing streams of your thoughts.” 

“ My thoughts are sheep,” I said, and told him 
how I first came to call them that a long time ago* 

“We will join our flock together, Perdita, and 
shepherd them into a peaceful glade.” 

“Antony, don’t you think people are very unob- 
servant? About your accident, I mean.” 

“ They were rather dense. I am glad. I wonder 
what the doctors thought.” 

“You never know what doctors who attend to 
princes think. They aren’t supposed to think at all. 
Nobody who waits on princes is supposed to 
think on their own account.” 

“ That’s why I don’t care about being a prince.” 

“ There’s a great glamor,” I said, “ pomp and 
circumstance. There’s a certain something which 
appeals to my artistic mind.” 

276 


‘‘AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER” 

“ You are really a princess, now.” 

“ Just for a minute or two.” 

“ My Princess for always — And your crown is 
not of perishable metal, but of the everlasting roses 
of love.” 

“ Kiss me, Perdita I ” 

Downstairs, Colonel Verakcr was playing “Chan- 
son Triste,” the soft melody floated up — we 
listened hand in hand, in the dying light. 

“ I hope we shall love each other like this when 
we are old.” 

“ That would be real romance,” I whispered. 
Antony kissed my hand and held it against his cheek. 

“ God keep us in love, more and more, as the 
years pass ...” 

The following day I had a letter, registered and 
sealed like some document of state. 

Q 

My dearest Child: 

Your mother is overwhelmed — I am overwhelmed! 
What strange Fate led you to meet a Prince. What a 
very difficult position you are in at present. Should you, 
like Lady Jane Grey, be only a nine days Queen, it will 
be more than a nine days wonder. I shall, of course, as 
I promised Lord Stranmore, be dumb, but I am ready to 
do anything to help, and if by my complete silence and 
obedience, to the commands of those in a higher position 
than mine, I can render the best service, I gladly obey. 

But, oh, my very dear daughter, at last a devoted 
277 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


father’s efforts are rewarded. I am too overcome to 
write more. Your mother is radiant as a young gazelle. 
It is the proudest moment of our lives. 

Your devoted 

Father. 

I tried to remember what efforts my father had 
made to give us opportunities for greatness, which 
seemed to have so exhausted him. He had forgot- 
ten us so often, he had certainly made himself ex- 
tremely breathless, when arguing with me and trying 
to make me marry Sydney Jarrette — a marriage 
which would have been disastrous for me, and would 
have meant, either a life of virtuous wretchedness, 
or sinful deception; for it is certain that people who 
marry in that way, are sure to run into that sort of 
danger. If they are not sticks and stones, if they 
are flesh and blood, if they have hearts, some day 
they will have to make an almost impossible sacri- 
fice, and renounce their right to live, or they will 
take the right, and counting the world as nothing, 
go down into the dust. I folded the letter and put 
it in my pocket. . . , 

Many things happened in the month that fol- 
lowed my marriage to Prince Antony of Basle. 
There were consultations, family meetings, grave 
gatherings of important personages to decide our 
future. Plans to annul the marriage, of all sorts, 
which Antony fought stoutly — We returned to 
278 


«AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER” 

London, Antony to the house of his father. We 
grew weary of the separation, and at last, one day 
in December, a week before Christmas, came the 
final gathering at the house O'f the Prince. I drove 
with Stranmore and Meg, and when we drew up at 
the door, a carriage with the Royal Arms already 
stood there. Antony received us In an ante-room. 
I drew near to him. 

“Was that the King’s carriage?” I whispered. 
“ I feel frightened. Kings can do anything, can’t 
they? Look at Henry the Eighth, and Charles II.” 

“ Look at Charles I,” said Antony. “ He lost 
his head, whilst I have only lost my heart.” 

We were ushered by a solemn major-domo. Into 
a lofty room furnished with rich, heavy furniture, 
enormous pictures and magnificent brocaded cur- 
tains — There was a long table at the end of the 
room, and several gentlemen near It. The Prince of 
Basle stood talking to another, a bearded man with 
eyeglasses — Colonel Veraker and Captain Stuart 
were also in attendance. 

“ It’s the King’s brother,” whispered Antony. 
“ He’s not a bad sort.” He advanced. The Prince 
saw us, and came forward. 

“ May I present to Your Royal Highness, Miss 
Elizabeth Sutherland.” 

I went forward and curtsied. The Prince put out 
his hand. I went nearer, took It, and curtsied again. 

279 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


“ You have caused many heartburnings, madam,” 
he said, a little grimly, but I saw a faint smile in his 
rather kind eyes. He shook hands with Stranmore, 
and spoke to him for a few minutes, then walked 
over to the table. “ Let us all sit down,” he said, 
taking his place in a huge carved chair. “We must 
get to business, for I have another appointment.” 

We all gathered around the Biihl table, and as it 
was rather dark outside, the electric light was turned 
on. A cuckatoo in a large gilt cage near the win- 
dow, kept cracking nuts, and dropping the shells on 
the floor of the cage with a little click, a tiny 
Pekinese dog lay snoring on a yellow satin cushion 
near the fire — A clock ticked slowly and solemnly 
on the marble mantelpiece — These small noises 
obtruded themselves in a queer way, at this im- 
portant moment. When Prince James, the King’s 
brother, spoke, everyone listened attentively — 
There was a tense feeling in the air — Only the 
little dog kept on snoring. 

“ We meet to-day to discuss a situation which has 
seldom. If ever, arisen in this country. A situation 
v/hich, as a rule, can have only one result. It has 
often happened abroad, I believe, that a Prince has 
fallen In love with a subject, a lady not of his own 
rank, and for many State reasons, he has been 
obliged to forego his claim on his family for the 
280 


^‘AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER” 

future, and give up his title of Prince, and live as 
an ordinary gentleman. He may be created a Peer 
through the generosity of the King, and he may 
retain the half of his income, but that is entirely a 
matter for arrangement. That is what happens in 
other countries, and that, in sum, is what we have to 
discuss to-day.” Antony looked at me and smiled. 
The Prince continued: “ Circumstances which you 
all know of, made it possible, some weeks ago for 
a form of marriage to take place between this lady 
and our cousin. Prince Antony. We cannot but re- 
joice that though at the time of his marriage he was 
in grave danger of death, he has now recovered, but 
we must deplore that it has put us all into a very 
awkward position, that such a marriage was hurried 
into, even at that critical moment. To-day, after 
great thought and many grave consultations, the 
King has issued his commands, and I am the bearer 
of this message.” He turned to one of the gentle- 
men. ‘‘ Lord Arthur, you have the document,” and 
Lord Arthur handed him a long paper. ‘‘ This is 
the message.” 

We have to-day decided at the request of our Well- 
Beloved Cousin, Prince George of Basle, and his family, 
that Prince Antony George James, his son, having con- 
tracted an alliance with Elizabeth Sutherland, shall if he 
desire to do so, marry the said Elizabeth Sutherland, but 
that if he so does, he shall renounce his title of Prince, 
and become an ordinary gentleman. He shall renounce 
281 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


his relationship with the Royal Family, and all claims 
upon it. He shall take the name of James Antony, and 
his wife shall be Mrs.- Antony. He may retain the half 
of his income, in order to live in comfort and keep her, 
suitably — Or, he shall, if he desires it, annul his mar- 
riage, and retain his title, and all the appurtenances 
thereof. Should he decide to renounce all, he must in 
the presence of his father, sign the document of 
renunciation. 

He held up a paper with a long seal attached. 
“This is the document,” he said. “You have His 
Majesty’s permission to choose what you will do.” 
It was a dramatic moment. 

He sat down, a murmur went ’round the circle. 
Antony got up, his eyes shining, his eager face 
turned towards the Prince. 

“ I renounce forever my title and claims, and 
choose to marry the woman I love. The choice is 
not difficult. All my life I have hated the publicity 
of my position. I gladly give up that which I have 
always hated, for that which I have desired — a 
happy marriage to the woman of my choice.” 

“ Marriage is a very serious affair,” said the 
King’s brother, gravely. “ It is not an affair of 
weeks, or months, it is for life. Perhaps the lady 
would like to speak. It is only fair to hear her side 
of the question.” 

I felt myself getting hot, but I spoke up all the 
same. 


282 


‘AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER 


“ I am glad for one thing that Prince Antony, 
should give up his title, because it cannot then be 
said I tried to gain a big name, or that I am a 
worldly and ambitious person — But I am so-rry I 
may not be called princess, because I think it is a 
beautiful name, and like a fairy tale.’* 

The prince smoothed his moustache and smiled a 
little. “You are a very romantic young lady,” he 
said. 

‘‘It is good to be romantic — People are often 
unhappy in their homes, and their lives dull, and 
monotonous, because they only see the dust on their 
chairs, and never the sunlight out of their windows.” 

“ You are a pair of children,” said the Prince. 
“ Remember, my dear Antony, you are giving up a 
great heritage, a great name.” 

“ I am starting a new name.” 

“You are losing a great deal of this world’s 
goods.” 

“ I am gaining my soul.” 

“ You were always too much O'f an idealist.” 

“ Never so much as to-day.” 

“ I urge you strongly to separate, you two young 
people, for you do not really know each other very 
well — you may be, not only unsuited in position, 
but also unsuited in many other ways — tempera^ 
ment, disposition.” 


283 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 

“ I will take the risk,” said Anthony decidedly. 

‘‘Well,” said the Prince, shrugging his shoulders, 
‘‘ had you lived twenty years ago, this decision could 
never have been arrived at, but we live in a demo- 
cratic age, and the old order has changed. I have 
no more to say — Colonel Veraker — the paper — 
Antony, sign this, and go in peace.” Antony looked 
at me, and I suddenly felt what a responsibility lay 
on me. 

“ Don’t do it unless you are sure,” I said. “ It 
will be awful for me, for us both — - if you ever 
regret it.” 

“ I shall not regret it, ever,” and he went over to 
the other side of the table, and in the presence of 
those grave men, put his name to the document 
which destroyed his Princedom. Then bowing to 
me, he said: “Mrs. Antony, your very humble 
servant.” 

The Prince shook him by the hand. “ I like a 
sport,” he said. “Antony, you’re better than a 
Prince; you’re a great gentleman — And you shall 
both come to Inverstrae House in the autumn,” and 
calling me to him, he said, “ You have a great 
chance in life — a chance to be happy. See that 
you make the most of it. Now, good-bye, I am 
ali/eady late for my appointment.” 

He shook hands with us all, and followed by his 
gentlemen, went out of the room. Colonel Veraker 
284 


“AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER” 

came up and shook hands; we all talked at once. 

“ Shall we have to be married again? ” I asked 
presently. 

“ Of course,’’ said Antony. “ You married a 
Prince. He is dead, you are a widow, and Mr. 
Antony has proposed.” 

“Your Prince will never die,” said Colonel 
Veraker. “He lives for ever, the Prince of your 
dreams. It is a charming end to a charming story.” 

“ Come, Elizabeth,” said Stranmore, “ Meg Is 
waiting for us, and anxious to know what has 
happened.” 

“We will dine to-night,” he whispered, as he 
moved towards the door, “ and arrange about our 
real wedding.” . . . 

“ I thought they would put you In prison, or chop 
off your head, Elizabeth,” said Meg that night, as 
we sat over the dying fire In Belgrave Square. We 
had had a very strenuous evening Indeed. Dad and 
mother had been to dinner, and he had preserved 
his calm during the meal, but afterwards he talked 
In his flowriest strain — He had blessed us both. 
“ Never,” he said, “ had he experienced a moment’s 
anxiety as to our sense of duty to himself. We had 
covered him with a coronal of fame; we had been 
sensible and settled ourselves In life more magnifi- 
cently than he could have hoped In his wildest 
moments of conjecture. He was now prepared to 
285 ' 


THE WIDENING CIRCEE. 


hand us over to our husbands, and quit the world 
with a quiet and peaceful mind. He regretted to 
tell us, owing to a little misunderstanding with re- 
gard to some founders’ shares and debentures, that 
he was not quite so well off as he had hoped to be. 
He had a few hundred a year, and would certainly, 
in course of time, make those hundreds into thou- 
sands, if not millions. He had done it before, and 
he would do it again. He wished us a very good- 
night. He was not one to intrude upon our bliss. 
When we wanted him, we knew where to find him — 
At least, he would let us know where to- find him. 
He was proud; he was elated; he was overcome; he 
was bewildered. . , . 

Mother was sweet about it all. She was quite 
happy and comfortable with dad at present, but she 
thought she had better get her feet on more solid 
ground, with Meg and me. 

“ There’s a little suite in the west wing at Stran- 
more,” said Meg, “ and a niche at Belgrave Square, 
which you must consider your own, when dad’s 
financial position becomes again lost in a- cloud of 
mystery.” 

“As it certainly will,” said mother, “he is so 
too,” said Meg, “ and he’s always been a little too 
hopeful about railways in Nebraska.” 

“ He’s had a way of making other people hopeful, 
bright and cheery, on other people’s money.” 

286 


“AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER” 

“ Whatever we do,” said mother, “ we must be 
careful of him just now. He said the other day he 
was quite sure there was coal on your property, 
Meg.” 

“Yes,” said Meg. “I felt sure he would be 
sure of that. I’m surprised he didn’t think there 
was a gold mine there, though the only gold to be 
found on the Stranmore estate, is when I am walk- 
ing about on it, and it’s in my teeth. He can’t very 
well prospect on that.” 

“ He spoke o*f sending an expert down with 
Stranmore’s permission,” said mother. 

“ There is an expert already there,” said Meg — 
“ me — not a coal expert, but an expert judge of 
character.” 

Mather sighed. “ Your father is a very clever 
man,” she said, “ if there is coal there — ” 

“ Darling,” said Meg, “ you always believe in 
dad, you know, and that’s where all your money’s 
gone to.” 

“ He believes in everything so thoroughly him- 
self, he sweeps one along with him. Good-night, 
darlings, I feel so happy to think you are both 
settled.” 

“ We are better than that,” said Meg. “ We are 
happy.” 

“ It all seems to have come about so quickly; only 
a few months ago I didn’t even know Antony.” 

287 


THE WIDENING CIRCEE 

“ Very good and happy events and very tragic 
ones always happen quickly,” said Meg. . . . 

The following day the General came to tea and 
heard our tremendous news. 

“ I told you, you were an exceptional creature, 
and would have an exceptional fate,” he said. 

“ Dear friend, you have always been my consola- 
tion In my trouble, and now I know you will rejoice 
with me in my joy.” 

“ I do Indeed, and I also have some good news. 
Michael Is to be my adopted son. His mother 
decided she was too much of an invalid to bother 
with him.” 

“ How can she neglect such a charming gift.” 

The General shrugged his shoulders. “ Her lack 
of appreciation is my opportunity,” he said. 
“ Where will you go, my dear, you and your Prince 
without a kingdom?” 

“ We want to have a house in the country — the 
seaside country — where we can live our lives unob- 
served, tending the Shrine. All our lives we have 
been turning towards that little Shrine. Now we 
may burn the incense and strew the flowers 
together.” 

Rumor was busy with Antony’s name and mine ; 
whenever we went out, people followed us. We 
were photographed wherever we went — In the 
288 


“AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER 

Park, at the theater — Little lines appeared in the 
Press — little verses were added to topical songs — 
letters poured in on us, questioning the truth, asking 
where I was, if I was married yet, if I was a 
Princess; and at last when everything had been 
officially settled, our second wedding took place, 
very quietly, very simply, just mother, dad, Meg, 
Stranmore, the General and Colo*nel Veraker. And 
we went away together, to beautiful Stranmore, 
which had been lent to us, where we had first met. 
Here, two lovers ate of the bread of content, and 
drank the wine of life, and lifted up their hearts in 
gratitude for the great blessings which had been 
bestowed. We stood upon the mountain o-f Joy and 
experienced the Divine Transfiguration of Love. 

When summer came again, Antony and I went 
down to Stapleton to see my sweet Diana. She had 
taken her first vows and longed to see us. We went 
in the morning when the sky was blue and the sun 
was hot — We rang the bell at the gate. A nun 
opened the wide door, and showed us into the shad- 
owed hall, and through the cloisters out into the 
garden. There, amongst the lilies, whose perfume 
filled the air with sweetness, we found her, gray- 
clad, white-veiled. She opened her arms, I went to 
her, whilst Anthony stood, tall jind fair, looking at 
us both. 


289 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


‘‘We have both found our Kingdom,” she said, 
softly. 

I often remember my vision in the little chapel at 
Stranmore, when Diana played the organ long ago 
— the Two Gardens — Hers and mine. Hers, 
cloistered, remote, a place of prayer and meditation, 
and soft stillness of dawn, and solemn peal of Matin 
bell, where the nuns walked by twos, and threes, 
their gray rob^s sweeping the earth. 

Calm, sad, secure behind high convent walls 

These watch the sacred lamp ; these watch and pray, 

And it is one with them when evening falls. 

And one with them, the cool return of day. 

And my garden; a place bathed in perfume, a 
place of flowers and singing birds, and the glory of 
the sunset, where a man and woman walk together, 
looking out over the sea, the ecstasy of a great pas- 
sion wrapping them as in a garment, and presently, 
hand in hand, they turn, and go Into the house. 
Night trails her robes of blue and silver across the 
grass, one by one the lights of the little house go 
out. The moon rises over the sea, a little wind stirs 
the trees, and on a branch a nightingale sings. 

I often lead the flock of my thoughts back through 
the pasture lands of memory, to the house of my 
290 


“AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER” 

childhood in the green country. To Grosvenor 
Square with its rich comfort, I see Sister Eleanora 
by the Convent door, hidden by the cloud of white 
doves ; the strange shabby room at Gloucester Place 
with its untidy servant, pealing bells and cracked 
looking-glass — the little world of girls at Baker 
Street — the Metropole with its constant stream of 
visitors — the repose and peace of gray Stranmore 
— the vortex of social ambition at Knightsbridge — 
the walks in Kensington Gardens — all these visions 
flit past me like a panorama. Who shall say how 
character is formed, by what strange mysterious 
means men and women become useful members of 
the community, or detrimentals. It is the Begin- 
ning which counts, when the mind is receptive, and 
easily impressed, and ready to accept Truth. It 
was a good thing for us In our early days to have the 
gift of observation, and to see the things which 
were valuable and the things which were worthless. 
Sister Eleanora was a beautiful type to influence 
any young mind. Her sweetness, her wisdom, her 
guiding hand pointing out purity, truth, and love, 
of everything which cannot be bought with money. 
Diana with her charm of manner, her courtesy to 
all, her care of others’ feelings, her care of her own 
person, her sympathy and kindness. Children are 
told they have guardian angels; we also had our 
guardians, who, though we walked near the preci- 
291 


THE WIDENING CIRCLE 


pice, put out their hands and drew us back to safety. 
We heard the rustle of wings and the exquisite 
voices of Heaven. Personalities, influences, guar- 
dian angels, whichever we call them, they were 
about us, to protect us, and guide us into the haven 
where we desired to be. We learnt how far apart 
from these was the personality of my father, with 
his habit of making use of everyone, the Montabel- 
los, with their love of eating and drinking, and fine 
clothes, and their fear of being despised, unless 
they were well dressed. Bernard Chesham, Alger- 
non Vernon, with their adoration for a title, no 
matter what man or woman held it, their desire to 
be seen at all big functions; their determined rush 
after money and pleasure; their awful lack of 
spirituality. 

They listen for the tinkle of the bells 
On Folly’s cap as he goes flitting by. 

And miss the grand sweet music of the sea 
Whose whisp’ring waves run swiftly to the shore. 

After seeking after place and power, thus they 
pass — the cortege of Death, the rushing fire en- 
gine, the ambulance with its burden of sickness — 
with unseeing eyes — they do not see the shining 
Figure walking in their midst, nor ask as St. Paul 
once did : “ Quo vadis, Domine ? ” 

We are not upon shifting sands; our feet are set 
292 


“AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER 

Upon a rock. We are solid, stable, safe; no longer 
leaves in the wind of circumstance, but strong strip- 
lings growing and thriving, in time to become great 
trees with spreading branches, their heads towards 
Heaven, their roots firm in the good brown earth. 

I lay down my pen; the book is finished. We 
stand together, our arms entwined, smiling and 
happy, waving farewell like Peter and Wendy, 
while the little fairies of Love and good Fortune 
jingle their joyous bells. 




THE END 






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